DAY'S ENDHere at the end of day, wide lake the precise color of a blue chalcedony ring my brother made long ago in another world, one last sweep of sunlight streams through the notch in these mountains for a few intense moments, lighting the stairways of young rice paddies stepping down the mountain, filling my eyes with more than vision, lighting a glimpse of the font of beauty as bright as the final bloom of a dying ember, but of life being born-- in moments, a picture of faith in purpose, all the way to sunset...
Once again Robert, lovely expression...
ReplyDeleteThanks, Trace... a natural rush is tough to get into words...
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