Sunday, January 30, 2005

Picture.

Rippling waters,
Glistening lights,
Swaying lanterns,
A picture at night.

A painted canvas,
Tainted with hearts…
Abiding blindness,
Unable to part.

Beyond beautiful meadows,
Stands a talking tree.
Branded paths to follow,
Ends with pangs of grief.

Capturing moments in time,
Searching for a frame.
One that cost more than a dime,
And harvested grains.

Cries of a soul;
Chasing a train of the past.
Words that glow,
Forms a difficult task…

Love,
Brenda.
1/30/2005 01:58:00 AM