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.

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