As the tide goes out
and the interface between the land and the sea is laid bare,
the soggy mud reflects the majestic sky
so clearly,
so deeply,
so poignantly…
Tears well up in my eyes.
I feel at one with the mud,
but not with the sky.
Tag: borders
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Bare interface
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Border
Colours are brighter on the edge and smells are sharper.
Borders are important.
There is no summer at the equator or winter at the North Pole –
a Winter Wonderland is impossible there, for there would be no wonder in it.
Love is equally impossible in hell and in paradise, for without choice there is only acquiescence.
I know of nothing more poignant than fall leaves in the snow,
they make you wonder and draw your breath in sudden joy.
Life is what happens on the border with death. -
The curtain
The wings of night cover the sky,
subtly changing the quality of light,
imperceptibly turning it into a highlight for darkness…
The time of transformation,
the time of uncertainty,
the time of magic.
The curtain of the day –
was the play worth it? -
Autumn Stained Glass
Fall.
The time of unrest.
The space between seasons.
The riotous clamour of colour and the whisper of falling leaves, rustling…
The melody is created in the space between scream and whisper,
as between death and rebirth arises the music of life.
