White space, a Lamentation:

Sloppy wet crystals fall from the sky.

Smother the shoots that dared to arrive.

All this white space, negative, blank. 

My body is tired of winter, I’m weak.

Where is the growth? The birth? The spring?

I’m done with all of this white, where’s the green?

AND

White space, a Psalm:

The hillside canvas splattered with paint.

Bright colors, shrieking joy, down the hill they skate.

They say "this is the best day EVER," as I hand them a cone.

For lunch we eat rainbow sprinkled ice cream made of snow.  

And I think how everything stands out against this white, 

Sprinkles on ice cream, winter coats, shadows from sunlight. 

Maybe all this white space isn’t as bad as it seems.

Maybe it’s there to shine light on what truly matters to me.

Image created by @phoenixfeatherscalligraphy

This post was written as part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to read the next post in this series "Go Where the Light Is".