By Claude Hill
The fallen branch is heavied with nature’s rain
Lying backwards like a lazy squirrel.
Blending into the fabric of beauty
Arousing our senses and intoxicating our deepest emotions.
Dripping life transmitted from trees
Washing my hair with nature’s hands.
The Dream Sketcher.
An ancient breeze from Eden gives inspiration.
Mortal hopes seeking to fill eternal deprivation.
Thread whether tightly knitted eventually needs a perceptual
Seamstress to keep time from visiting.
The Dream sketcher filled with the lion’s fierce breath,
Journeys to realities unimagined like a living death.
The sketcher all along has figured out the bluff.
The innate conflict captured in a moment of courage.
Daisies impact only once.
Creating fluid memories that feeds perception’s health.
The infinite facets of our achievements is never enough.
It’s experiencing detail through perceptual freedoms learned in spirit.
I think this brownish gray paint will finish the design
of a Delicious branch resting on nature’s spine.
I sketched with dreams and painted with imaginations brush.
Opening myself to life’s creative rush.