**The Canvas of Karma**
The fabric of reality—a boundless canvas,
Where eternal time wields the artist’s brush.
Yet as I ponder the depths of creation,
I see that time is not alone.
Hidden in shadows, a silent force guides,
Unseen, but felt in every stroke.
This companion whispers, leads the hand,
Crafting worlds with each quiet command.
This hidden force—none other than karma,
The keeper of deeds, both dark and light.
Each choice, each act, finds form and hue,
Spun by karma's silent might.
**The Palette of Peace**
When karma calls for peace, colors bloom—
A softer hand, a gentler touch.
The artist paints fields beneath a tranquil sky,
Where rivers wind, and no storm intrudes.
In the corners, children laugh, unscarred,
Warm light falls on a mother’s embrace,
Elders rest in the glow of the dawn,
And each face wears a calm, timeless grace.
Here, kindness reigns; each stroke a balm,
The canvas hums in a silent psalm.
Karma’s hand has drawn this peace,
A world of calm, of love released.
**The Red of Rage**
But when karma demands a darker shade,
The artist’s hand finds bloody red.
Fields once green are burnt and scarred,
And shadows fall where sunlight fled.
Battles rage on barren plains,
With smoke and screams, and cities lost.
Faces twist in the anguish of war,
Lives caught in karma’s fierce cost.
The artist’s hand obeys with dread,
Sketching scenes of strife and pain.
For karma demands that balance be met—
The suffering earned, returned again.
**The Brush of Sorrow**
Sometimes, in hues of a mournful blue,
Karma calls for sorrow’s grace.
The artist dips his brush in grief,
Painting tears on a lover’s face.
Lonely roads beneath heavy skies,
Footsteps echo, heavy with loss.
Empty rooms with hollow sounds,
Ghostly scenes where souls are crossed.
This shade speaks of a loss, unseen,
A wound that heals but leaves its scar.
Karma records in silent strokes
All hearts that break, near and far.
**The Gold of Joy**
And yet, there are times when joy unfolds,
A gilded hue, warm and bright.
The artist paints in golden swirls,
Capturing moments of pure delight.
Laughter spills in a crowded square,
Friends embrace with open hearts.
A new child cries, a family cheers,
And hope alights as pain departs.
In these strokes, there is no pain,
But a moment pure, unburdened, free.
Karma smiles, as the artist paints
A fleeting scene of ecstasy.
**The Gray of Mystery**
Then come the shades of subtle gray,
Where truths are hidden, not yet revealed.
The artist paints in mist and shadow,
A scene both blurred and concealed.
Here, karma weaves a path unseen,
Where choices hide in foggy lines.
Unknown forces play their part,
Guiding hands and bending minds.
The artist knows the outcome well,
But silent keeps his steady hand,
While karma’s whisper shapes the scene—
A mystery none can understand.
**The Silent Partnership**
Through light and dark, through joy and sorrow,
Time follows karma’s guiding reign.
Though he sees the end of every tale,
The artist never once complains.
Karma steers with hand unseen,
Dictating deeds, unknown, unseen.
While time obeys, his brush a tool,
Guided by karma’s subtle rule.
Together they shape the lives we lead,
Each color, each shade a consequence cast.
In every scene, the tale unfolds,
The story written, complete at last.
**The Endless Tapestry**
And so, reality stretches wide,
A tapestry woven, line by line.
Each stroke, each color holds a truth,
Guided by karma, shaped by time.
For karma watches every deed,
Its memory boundless, its justice blind.
While time obeys, without a word,
Forever painting, eternally kind
