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CANVAS IN CRESCENDO

By Vera Von Monika

Shadows and light collide,
each heartbeat a trembling stroke.
Silence hums, and color breathes,
rising through the chest, unstoppable.

Every gesture, a note; every pause, a chord.
The world dissolves, leaving only motion,
a pulse of feeling,
a song painted on the skin of night.

Fingers trace the edge of memory,
where whispered echoes meet forgotten dreams.
A crescendo of breath and trembling wings
spills across the unseen horizon.

Time bends and folds into the paint,
every layer a fragment of thought,
every shade a confession,
every shadow a truth too loud to speak.

The light leans closer,
brushing against the silence like a lover,
and suddenly the chaos of the world
is nothing but the rhythm of becoming.

And when the last stroke falls,
the canvas sings
not of endings,
but of endless becoming,
etched forever in the swell of now,
where the soul rises,
where colour and sound collide,
where every note finds its home in you.

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