Alive In The Paint Poem by Candice James

© Candice James Poet Laureate Emerita,
City of New Westminster, BC


From shadow to light, purple to white
Nestled in between death and life
I pick up my brush in the candle-glow
To paint an emotion I know will flow
With passion, lust, love and romance,
Fabulous rhythm and eloquent dance.
Where the blessed, frail and obscurely quaint
Are part of the brilliance, alive in the paint.

Then I take a step back, and step out of the picture.
I analyze the paint and survey the mixture.

I put down my brush and cross the floor,
Gaze into the mirror that hangs on the door.
I stare at my image in shock and surprise
At the secrets hiding behind my eyes.
I see evidence of old truths tossed away
Where guilty pleasures held court and held sway,
Dipping my world into ebony ink,
Clouding my judgement ‘til I couldn't think;
Couldn't differentiate right from wrong,
A symphony from a rock'n'roll song.


So I polished my breath until it came to rest
On the satin lapel of an artist's vest.

Stars twinkled above as darkness undressed
I fell to my knees and humbly confessed
The world began spinning a bright shade of white
As I moved from the shadow into the light
Delighting the eye in the sky I suppose
Because it applauded in quiet repose.
Now, if I listen closely I can still hear the sound
Of that one hand clapping…the other one bound.

Then the sound slowly fades; becomes very faint
But something still breathes…
Alive in the paint.