a book in the desert

it is the new year and things are different
not in the usual sense
the weather isn't any warmer, the rain is still coming down
and the weeds still grow strong in the garden

the difference is inside
molten magma still burns deep in the center
but the pressure has ceased
I am not afraid to walk the barren landscape
something beautiful will turn up . . . eventually

the other day watercolors dripped from my paintbrush
and cacti grew on a landscape of color
now fabric beckons
pattern married to color
square next to square

if I walk long enough I will touch everything
the words that stand on top of one another
will be there
to create a story
then pages
then a book

the barren desert fools the wanting eyes

so I am not the same
I no longer search for my beauty
I find beauty in what is before me

Drop me a virtual line at