Canvas

For some bizarre reason, I have decided to start off with a bit of poetry. Not entirely sure why, since mostly I write fiction, but I like this little blip. In this piece, you will find many structural errors.I really know so little about poetry, so maybe this doesn't even qualify as poetry, but I do like it.  I also wrote this with the intention and idea that it should be read out loud. Thanks for reading. 
*I have no idea why this is highlighted white, or if I'm the only one seeing it that way. I can't figure it out, but I'm posting none the less. 

Canvas

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has past away; behold the new has come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

From the beginning of time it entered our strife and dared us to find the way to life.

The way that would bring good things and good news without being out the sad and lonely hues

that darken our life that should be light and colorful with the paints that are right and bright.

The canvas on which we write that was given to us on the day we were born, but 

from the beginning of time we have torn and ripped to shreds without a thought.

Our one and only canvas we splashed with mud and grime, filth and slime

for we sought the things that are

entertaining but, not sustaining and hoping that we were gaining

the one thing in life that truly mattered but we looked down and on our canvas 

was an ugly splatter. For what in life truly matters? 

Is it the race to fill ourselves with all we can?

To succumb to the  pleasures our flesh demands?

In the end all that brings is nothing, yet it's a trend that we slightly mend then try again.

What is the true meaning of life? A question that has rocked our philosophers time after time.

Some people grow tired of this strenuous climb, looking to find a model to follow.

We have set those who have certain talents on a peristalsis to get an answer that is 'ethical'.

The answer may be different, it maybe noble, but it will always be immoral if you ask the world.

So where do we go? All the doors seem to close, but not

if you look at the path that shows,

a miserable fall, but a promise to top them all and down the line

through all the bad and the good, through a time of guidance then a time of silence.

There came one night, a star shown bright over a lonely and dirty barn.

Where the savior to all people was born and the angles where heard sounding the alarm,

 “This is the day when everything will change! This is the day of our new born Lord!"

But that cried died out and because he was strange and at age 33 he was hanging from a tree.

Dejected and confused his disciples sat wondering and thinking, what can we do?

But then, the angles came reviving a time lost cry that again the Savior was alive.

Nothing was the same, for God has given us the key to our chain.

He first gave us a promise and after it was done he gave us a purpose.

Along with a new canvas he gave us paint and told us to create

A life pleasing to him, not one that please our every whim.

Don’t worry about mistakes for he has an eraser and will take and make the mistake blank

Tell others you have found the answer that they seek;

a second chance to get rid of the bleak and to create something unique

The thing we've always needed was the thing we messed up completely.

He gave us new life and gave it eternally, so take it from me;

This is what we need. This is what you've been searching for.

Cast off you frozen and numb heart and open the door, for He is the Lord.

Author's Note

Dear Friends,

Like many books, we will begin with an Author's Note. A quick Google search just told me that an author's note is basically anything the author wants to note. So, with confidence in Yahoo Answers and the fact that I am correctly using an Author's Note, let's begin.

I recently became a college freshman who is majoring in Creative Writing. This perhaps totally irrational plan has lead me to a bump in my road. Considering this plan of mine, part of me is screaming internally, "Don't do this!" However, a smaller, less rational part tells me to keep going. I'd like to think this is the same voice that took me to a college far away and told me it was okay to major in my passion. This seemingly absurd plan has presented itself to me and before clearer thinking prevails, I'm going to do it.

Here is the problem, reader:

I'm terrified of you. 

I've never really let anyone read anything of mine that wasn't assigned or silly. I think the problem is that I'm terrified of becoming vulnerable. If you've ever met me in really life, you know how reclusive and quite I can tend to be. I don't believe there is anything wrong with being that way, but I do realize it presents a problem for me. A writer cannot remain reclusive and internal. Sure, in day to day life they may live this way and be perfectly fine, but not in their writing. A story cannot not be shared, cannot be loved, and cannot effect change unless a writer is willing to share it. 

With the problem well thought out, the small risk taking portion of my brain has come up with a solution. I will let my writing be read, but I will not do it anonymously. I'm going to invite everyone I know inside to share in the strange and deluded maze that might come from this blog. I invite you to read anything that may follow and help me in my quest to become comfortable in the uncomfortable world of vulnerability. 

Just a few quick things to note before we begin:

• I do realize that I make grammar and spelling mistakes a lot, but I'm working on it. It is not my intention to have y'all help me spell and grammar check my work. I do appreciate it since it is obvious that I miss my mistakes; however, I'd like the Grammar Nazi in you to lie dormant for a bit. I just want you to evaluate my work as a whole and give some comments if you feel led to do so.  
• Do not feel the need to give unnecessary or false positive comments. Really, I'd rather you say nothing if you don't have the heart to tell me my work sucked when it does. (Which will happen at least twice).
• I am a Christian and I will write about it. If you'd like to argue about whether or not God exists, I accept 5 page essays with plenty of citations. I will then carefully read your argument and respond with "I guess you'll have to accept the fact that I do not agree with you." I am not a scientist, historian, or theologian. I have however experience God in a way none of those things could explain. Nothing contained inside an internet comment or 5 page essay could make me think otherwise. 
• Thank you for taking the time to read this and continuing to read whatever comes next. I really do hope you enjoy my work.

With all of that said, welcome to the blog I'm calling "Sarah Writes". 

Until next time,

Sarah