THIS PLACE

seclusion is my inspiration of alone unbroken time, a silent bloom to create, construct and listen to winds and waves while considering the advice from clouds under a galaxy of private space with incense of thought filling corners, walking over crossroads

ENTER THE GHOSTS

sleep, the back half of what was, leftovers from today, ghosts of the past stepping through an open door without resistance as the sand underneath changes to water, drowning your breath or pushing you from a rooftop sparing your impact, your death, until repeated another night

BIRTHDAY CANDLES

silent wishes inside whispers, unopened presents frosting smiles, festive hats pointing to heaven, where eyes reflect the soul as a chorus of support welcomes all into the center where voices entertain with gifts in story

THE HAND

is a perfect flower opening with morning stretching, reaching, designing moments achieving success fulfilling needs, desires, preparing to create protecting, supporting this day this evening until night when resting dreams stir them without our permission

A BAG OF SALVATION

words on stone as angels pass over where clouds hold tight the soul of belief as winds push back and then forward to the promise at the highest point where air is fresh like cool water filling your spaces washing onto your shoreline the best of all parts

THERE BEFORE US

each year a roadside meadow bordered by stonewalls breathes a harvest of wild flowers and weeds sharing soil and space rain and wind seasons of change providing evidence of a glorious gift

ALMOST

on the other side of time, the area between is crowded with shadows, broken promises and the right to be understood as changes occur like the flow of clouds, nameless, but important, almost enough to break into the blues like reliving the history of each year, after the first breath of morning as day passes … More ALMOST

RIVER VOICE

the voice of the river surface gentle troubled deep the warning drifts past stirring desire and fathomed fear water prints, smooth circled twists, suggesting what lies below and out of sight the flow is a deliberate force to the ocean slow and continuous, unmatched, unchallenged

SOFTLT ABOVE

the last clouds of day are rooms over the ocean, curtains of moisture reabsorbed, exposing a a carpet of stars, glistening sweetness nourished by angels as we trespass beneath heaven