Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

My desert,
was a blank place.

Animated by
random lucky
oases,

otherwise,
ignored.

When my
sirens faded,
and hope
sprang cactus,
I fell apart hard,

landed,
like a water-melted
witch,

on my own
long neglected,
hotbed of sand.

Each step was a
futher dissolution,
a deeper grind,

crumbling
into nowhere,

forcing me,
against my will,
to take a rest
in sifted

uncertainty.

The aching wetnesses,
muddy horizens,
took shape
only then.

I saw
giant totems
appear out
of my fog,

sagebrush,

rolling languidly,
amongst peaks
and canyons,

glinting with
insights,

fearless,

from now on.

forcing me,
against my will,
to take a rest
in sifted

uncertainty

Fearless

yes me too, it was like a fog lifted, a silent fog where I could only hear my thoughts. The sound of my breath was lost in the Cacophony of my thoughts, Almost silent warm sunshine comfort today, but I could not hear my breath in all the nose of traffic and Locomotive horns.

before I forget
Bravo Hester
Gracias

Thanks Hes...

a real trek, this one... my inspiration for the day...