by Bea Garth
copyright, 2008I am but a crysallis burrowed deep in the mud in the dark wells under the high mountain lake, whereas you you love to fly in your red sports car rock and roll spewing forth there being no fun like riding the surface of the frozen crystalline lake
when suddenly you notice the noon-day sun
and hear the surface crack, about to radiate in all directions.
Thank you Sandra! I wrote that piece last year and unfortunately it is all too true.
Just wondering, are you an artist, poet or commentator — or just interested?
Hi! I was surfing and found your blog post… nice! I love your blog. 🙂 Cheers! Sandra. R.