by David Bolton.
We’re sitting on a petrified log, facing the turquoise
Pacific. Chi Gong & Tai Chi have put our minds at rest…
Huge rock in distance, half hidden in mist, as if nature
has a secret to share with those who see…. We’ve come a
long way to sit on this blanched log…
It’s Not a time for talk. Food for the creative mind.
Tidepools reflecting a silver sheen
A man in black raises his arms; his daughter, dressed in
pink, mimics the gesture; both in the awe of the sea.
Denise draws. Her eyes drink in the many shades of
green, Caribbean blue. How would they transfer to
canvas? She doesn’t paint reality.
We are here and now. Behind me, mountains were
swaddled in clouds. A line of fog is building on the
horizon. Nothing ceases. Perpetual flow. The world of
gathering and spending far away,
I take pictures with the mind. I put them in words. How
rich can it be?