The inspiration of spring and believing in one's dreams.

The beauty of the world is abound.  It is a muse to be found.

The clouds alone are the tentative strokes of God’s white-dipped paintbrush upon his blue canvas.

Our world is his creation.

In my mind my dreams reached conception.

I looked upon afraid to dwell.

There was so much I dared to tell.

Doubt and fear worked to paralyze my mind.

My adventure I almost surrendered.

The voice I longed to share became mute,

 and I became deaf to even the motivation of music.

Without using my imagination I fell lost with no temptation of explanation.

Did this mean that my dream was no longer meant for the world to see?

Is thirty-three to late to be?

No!

I am still me with my Chuck Taylors parked next to my four inch stilettos.

Collecting a lot of bucks to buy soulless possessions was never my intention.

To tell a story has always been my true obsession.

I have been given the colors.

My canvas is still mine to create.

To me bestowed such great inspiration.

I aspire to trek in many directions.

The horizon before me lie as wide as I imagine forever.

The map of my life is mine to design.

I believe in today and I cannot wait to live my tomorrow.

© 2012 Elizabeth Rockhill