Which one's me and which one's you?
writing with light
When the photograph is a mirror of the man, and the man is a mirror of the world, then Spirit might take over.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Past the odds the dawn is breaking, the dusk is slipping. To the stillness of the eye a violin now swings in spiral. To listen and to whisper the chords aren't enough. Do waves of shivering light touch hands and sigh? Ask, if I may...with a child's smile.