...let's start again

Take a blank page, clean, pristine;
consider its whiteness, its purity,
yet know you must spoil it

Choose then your weapon;
take ink's heavy tread
stamping across your page,
confident, bold, arrogantly indelible,
or maybe pencil's childish inconstancy
sharp, bright at first, but tiring quickly, blurring
into a finger-smudged scribblement,
easily erased

The test then;
Hold it up, look through it, look at the sun,
does the colour spill, pour down, raining
a confetti of light, spangling your hair,
gilding your eyes till they glitter like topaz...

No matter

Try it for depth, for reflection;
go out, on a gibbous night, hold the page before you
like an offering, tilt it, catch a star in the act of winking.
Aim for the the moon, watch closely,
does she tremor, shimmering, trapped in the whiteness,
a negative of the sun, rendered in mercury and chalk...

Tear it up...