White is the blank page I write on now.
It is the artist’s unmarked canvas.
White is the purity of a wedding vow
And cotton blowing in the breeze of harvest.
White is tranquility.
It is peace symbolized.
White means clarity.
It is a new perspective realized.
White is the backdrop to brilliant blue eyes.
It is a smile’s memorable flash.
White is the clouds in crystal clear skies.
And the crests of waves as they splash.
White is an empty expanse.
It is curtains floating in the wind-
Like a silken dress that moves with a dance.
It is the wash of cleanliness for those who have sinned.
White is delicate porcelain vases.
It is ice after a freeze.
White is geishas’ painted faces
And living life with ease.
White is sidewalk chalk on a child’s hands.
It is goose down pillows in the morning light.
White is Caribbean sands.
It is the stars shining against the night.
White is the soft petals of a daisy.
It is the blossoming Queen Anne’s lace.
White is the feeling of finally being free
And the bliss of running through a vacant space.
White was this blank paper I have filled with phrase.
It was this now marked canvas.
White surrounds the ebony letters that gild the page.
It is the striking contrast to their blackness.