Looking through the eyes of the canvas

Looking through the eyes of the canvas
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I remember a safe haven and a gentle hum,
looking through the eyes of the canvas.
Where firm grips keep out the storms
And soft scents caress the senses.
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I remember all the –times,
looking through the eyes of the canvas.
Where fantasies embrace realities
And Reality is for a child’s play.
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I see hatred, hurt and rejection,
looking through the eyes of the canvas.
Where life’s past is left behind
And two paths are left to unwind.
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I see life where there is death,
looking through the eyes of the canvas.
Where violent quakes and rolling waves
Bring closer hope where there is despair.
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I feel the lonely entrapment of solitude,
looking through the eyes of the canvas.
Where shadows walk through endless seas
Never seen, heard or acknowledged.
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And most important of all, the artist is never far,
When looking through the eyes of the canvas.