Spilt drops

We paint our lives with each drop spilled.

Sloshing over the edge with careless hands and words

falling to the paper and running into a river

of thoughts that try to pat dry

and create anew

to cover the blemish of the mistakes

the clumsy errors of a reckless hand

that knocks then rights

extra napkins to hold just in case

it spills again.

In  between the ink-blot designs

we fabricate our fantasies and dreams

and for but a moment live within

the things only we can see,

only we can carry that image of what is needed

and how it will be

for each soul creates its own destiny

for manifesting its way to completion

and blank slates waiting

to try again.

So we tip and spill a bit more

covering the first creation now that it is

and now make something bigger and better

like a vision board of coffee tastings

different flavors and consistencies

all we desire like children we stare

as we walk by the choices

and choose none for lack

of a rainy day resource.