I saw the crevice in the mountain. The burnt trees and scorched rocks, shaded in charcoal and earthly reds. Shadows casting across the divide that inexplicably tear at my heart.
My soft ancient heart.
Wanting to jusitfy it all in paint and pencil. To covey the beauty and enable others to see what I see. To converse with mediums of basic creation.
Close my eyes and share the tragedy.
Tell a story of truth encrusted in my bones and skin. As the angry little fire still flickers. Forever wanting to release myself to the soaring of wings through an open and brilliant sky.
Please paint me whole.
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