Hold your breath

Blank page, staring at me like the nothingness I see.
Sheer, vast empitness.
Wishing a picture would form.
Some magic charcoal,
To scratch an image on the rough paper.
Start with my ragged outline,
Etched and ingrained into the blank canvas.

Black shapes fill the space around the sketches.
Lines and swurling marks
Gradually grow a clarity which I need.
Me staring wide eyed to see what wisdoms will come.
Watching as a speech bubble points to my penciled lips.
There forms a phrase, some words from the invisible beyond;
"The clouds have wept, the floods have come.
Hold your breath; soon you'll be done."