empty canvas
The Empty Canvas
The empty canvas waits before the Painter
It waits to be the painting it must be
Unto this end it has rightly been created
To reflect rightly what the Painter sees
A beauty that will surely find its life in its dying
So another might be born again
And in this constant death the constant beauty is created
Within the constant love that never ends
Jesus is the Master Painter
And the Holy Spirit is the Master's brush
To be dipped in the colors that portray a Father's love
That the Master's painting might be born above
That the canvas of our lives might know the Master's touch
To portray the beauty of the Master's brush
So an empty canvas waits before The Painter
An empty canvas destined to be hung
Within the gallery once it has been created
Will the canvas bear the beauty of the Son
John Michael Talbot, Terry Talbot
It waits to be the painting it must be
Unto this end it has rightly been created
To reflect rightly what the Painter sees
A beauty that will surely find its life in its dying
So another might be born again
And in this constant death the constant beauty is created
Within the constant love that never ends
Jesus is the Master Painter
And the Holy Spirit is the Master's brush
To be dipped in the colors that portray a Father's love
That the Master's painting might be born above
That the canvas of our lives might know the Master's touch
To portray the beauty of the Master's brush
So an empty canvas waits before The Painter
An empty canvas destined to be hung
Within the gallery once it has been created
Will the canvas bear the beauty of the Son
John Michael Talbot, Terry Talbot
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