Tiny sprigs emerging from an old, but virile MesquiteI'm not a fan of beginnings or endings which inevitably result in... well, another beginning. Air traces infinity sign.
My first pen stroke begins as apprehensively as it is awkward; tracing my thoughts just millimeters above the page until finally touching. My pen, as awkward and apprehensive as I am; the ink dries from lengthy wafting, passions dull from once novel thoughts. Yet, once it's revealed, even in infancy, there is promise...
Peace and promise
2 comments:
Beautiful words, beautiful shot.
i'll be re-reading this 2-3 times :-)
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