Mists of morning...

For a time I lived by water, swayed by its moods, conversing with its murmurings, lulled to sleep by its waves. My conscious and unconscious evolution was a reason to land there and linger for some years before circumstance effected change. Though rustic and primitive, my cabin and its windows on the water had much to teach; I took each lesson to heart and the result was transformation.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Wanderer

Light through a window,
illumination against the night.
Beckoning.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Fiddler

On the village rooftop
under the tree,
the fiddler plays.
Sunrise, sunset.