These witchy trees, bare and lifeless, cold and leafless:
One might wonder where life has gone and if all hope is gone,
receded into the dark earth. But
in one moment, that gifted second,
a nub of green sprouts, a speck of promise appears, and the sleeper rises,
stretches to the sky. Renewal happens once again—
from death to life.
That these dormant praises in me would rise again, unchained.
That these sleeping sermons once more would reach my mouth that I may speak of Your wonder,
once again.
Day: September 5, 2022
Under the Street Photography
Because it technically isn’t street photography, I am calling it under the street. When capturing pond reflections and innocent bystanders walk along the border of the pond, their images become an impressionistic part of my watercolor art. 🙂
Apronhead 