Saturday, June 27, 2009

A Journey With A Strong Walking Stick


Pulled back black, silky sweet

a hunger grows forth red,

pouting words, imagery defined

blotting out the sun.

Benevolence shown, reaching me

touching scars, old and cracked--

healing all things, many things

hidden beneath life’s ocean deep.

Shed no tears for me,

as I am a wreck, lost yet free

telling untrue fact,

listless within my own dark vanity.

It is in the forest, dark and cold

we seek the Trillium, alone in its bed

hungering and thirsting for love

finding none yet three.

I feel you, I hear you

much like a rainbow, vivid and clear

waiting for the day it fades away,

as the sunshine warms my face.

Picture challenges can be difficult yet it can direct the subject matter in a way that stirs up the “stuff” at the bottom of the can, like a paint can. Once mixing the bottom pigment the full color comes to life and the end result is the desired shade intended. This was interesting to write.

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