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Canvas Of Life

By Sagarika Das

My skin is a canvas of life,

Painted with black ashes of dark Memories,

Into the back of my iris,

Shinning with the bright hue of morning light,

In the golden hour of sunshine,

Fostered with the green of the tree's tranquillity,

Like the river flowing in my veins,

As unique as the first colour the new-born sees.

Yet my skin is not always perfect,

Some stitches teach me what it's to be a being,

Thread upon thread sheltering my withering heart,

Sometimes the needle of hurts gives pain,

But I learn what it takes to heal,

Slowly under the care of time.

Sometimes with showering in tears,

Sometimes with looking at hands that people reached out,

Sometimes in the touch of feels,

Or sometimes in the arms of nature's blessing,

My skin is a canvas of life,

Scorched with love,

Waltzing through crevices,

I'm blessed to feel,

I'm the canvas of life,

A journey,

I'm blessed to live.

By Sagarika Das

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