She tried to protect the small child inside, did everything she could. Acted like a wall for his words to bounce against, accepted the blame for a behavior which was not her own. Kept her chin up and took on a smile in front of the child, so that the child would not be harmed. In order for this to be successful, no one could know the reason this child was being protected. She constantly stood behind a barrier who kept her from reaching out, all this for the child. It took her a long time to see that these barriers where broken down long ago, matter of fact they might never been there. The child was no longer a child, it was only her. Only her and no one else in reach.

It is the thing we create from within.
From the depth of our soul
Where our passion does live.
The place we seek to find the unseen,
Those things that are seen
Within our minds and our dreams,
The things that others have not yet seen.

A vision where those can gaze and be free,
By a master at play while capturing his dreams
Upon the canvas where the art lives and breathes
Away from other influence, that he may have seen.

The art does not copy the others of known.
Instead, each piece is the artist's very own.
By bracing his feet upon the ground where he stands,
The art comes from within, from the master’s own hands.

let
thy
heartbeat
fill
this
soul
with
one drumbeat
at
a time
thus
supply me
with
all the
joy
that
i
need

Early morning view
The city is still asleep
Most people not awake yet...
Blushing colors in the east
Promise of golden sunrise
to be born soon.



Shell ✨🐚

This terrain is unfamiliar
long vistas of green and golden fields
and to the side dark ravines
quicken alertness and care
to avoid hollow fruitless depths.

A gathering of souls
beckons me back to be among them
to tell of my journey, my vision.

But I carry with me shades of the ravine
attached as doubt.
Someone told me to be myself.
An odd order,
for who else could I be?

Still…
just about the time I think I know
my self
it is eroded by swift waters
sweeping by and into me.