brushstrokes upon the canvas

Living with purpose is the life goal of many people.  What is my purpose?  What am I supposed to do?  What will it say when the days end and life is summed up in a few paragraphs in a newspaper?   What do you want it to say?   The time to make that difference is today.

 

A segment from Mary Oliver’s poem asks those questions, what will become of my life?

 

Mary Oliver, “When Death Comes” from New and Selected Poems (Beacon Press, 1992)

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

 

What do you want paint on your canvas of life?

 

Skyscape

The artist in the sky

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