colors of pulling thoughts and shoulders into waves of permanent skies laden with what is still felt by restless dreamers at war
somedays, he pretends the lifeless morning matters as does all of this emotional malfeasance he calls his mere existence
I lived here awhile. Everything was a mess then. Now is better, but.. I take all this in, and I Still think how me all this is
the mountain vista sprawling toward tomorrow leaving yesterday back behind where it belongs taking the sun as its own
our calligraphy: learned brush strokes and swirls, summer harmony, using hope as our main ink though none of our words made sense
ill-fated roaming: is there no cure for these wounds? must everything end tangled in a lost ruin surrounded by misfortune?
a great blue over a pure gold flecked with red the fall, like water, flowing through the traveler, returning gladness a welcoming place, wreathed in autumn's calm glow, where the walker stops hearing finally the voice that reminds him that good is by a pond, trees like new angels spreading wings, scattered leaves on the … Continue reading "a little awestruck"
in light and sorrow open to eternity as it's flowing in but we are temporary and life is leased more than owned
the night split open: wind blew terror through the trees, chilling our spirits. we sang then of better times, and dared the storm to join in Image credit : Vof Vermeulen Perdaen & Steyaert