the stopped second hand on the clock still, flat water dancing light reflections feathers from a thousand pillows fall from the sky the night’s cold warmth opens its mystery

strength of love

with the love that permeates the soul then step forward like a paintbrush in hand a fluid line  dipped into paint soaks into a large canvas creates the shape of a curve that becomes a hill the paint is green and with the spirit  creates a beautiful landscape a bright sky a river flowing freely…

peaceful moment

little quiet time no sound for a couple moments  and mind clears to reveal a beautiful sky warmth from the sun on even the cold days

the light within her hands

in her cupped hands closed yet through each line in between  fingers warmth the light shining through  making her hands  appear as if glowing red slowly  she opens her hands revealing the light inside  and it is a gift from somewhere so mysterious  you could say  far off it is a gift she’s given us…

the sister of destruction

i am the sister of destruction coming your way  with no stops charging through and unceasing i follow after  and make life from the path of death she leaves as my welcome mat i am not angry i am kind i move slowly i put things where they might be noticed i make things beautiful…