I’ve called it many names. It changes with time. Much like us humans do. This place is peaceful to me. It fills the void where darkness sits. Casually, it rips our souls. . Piece by piece, till all the light fades out. This place brightens the candle. As if the words of yesterday flew by. Zipping through the sky. At its mercy, I sit. Gripping, brush in hand. Prayer through art, Waiting. For its flicker. A moment, a memory Forgotten Amongst the chatter Illusioned by the strokes Of color, fragmented by its structure Fluctuating with emotion The temorary rift Colliding sins Only the mind creates.
I imagine. . . . . Walking though luscious fields. Tracing my fingers along Beds of yellow Poppys I can feel the birds fly over Their shadows cast upon the landscape Dow eyes hidden gehind trees. As countless seeds pollinate.