a proffered hand in the mist.. the wind howling eerily amidst destructive overtones.. vying with hope and faith.. a warring crescendo of shadow and light.. and the God remains.. cloaked in changing hues.. outside.. fatalistic words holding an indefinable clarity.. at once poignant.. fragile.. candid and pure.. shimmering moments bearing images that none can see.. for maybe strangeness abounds in this world.. and sometimes in ourselves.. when a 'familiar' hand beckons in silent recognition.. and you reach out to convey.. the story unfolds in eyes that need to blink away any remnants of moments that might blur or fade.. but some remain.. as freeze-frames.. simple to thaw.. tortuous to share..
No comments:
Post a Comment