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The Shattering of MoonAn old willow tree, set in one place, reaching out, thinking deeply, quietly, alone. Proud of the roots that raised it, let it grow. With strong conviction it will whisper it's view, and when the breeze calls, it sways. Marked with children's fingers. Knives' blades. Dog pee. Marked in all, still standing. Bright eyes that stay awake, because the Moon is prettier than the Sun. Should it think it's seen it all, till it's eyes feast more. It's rough bark breaking for the light sap that combines. And when the old woman ushers, "Touch it child, see what it has to say." it will hold it's space. For the woman's anger, for a father's tears, foThe Shattering of Moon
by ~RosaliesImpression
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- Current Residence: Orangutan Land
- Interests: Up for anything. Unless its something morally wrong or suicidal, not into serial killing.
- Favourite genre of music: Good Music
- Favourite poet or writer: Claire and Jeni.
- Favourite photographer: Claires Father.
- Favourite style of art: Let's not generalize shall' we?
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- Shell of choice: Pardon?
- Skin of choice: Well, skin in general is accepted among most cultures. As in mine.
- Favourite game: Mind games, you know, the made up kind.
- Tools of the Trade: Intuition.. Concentration....Passion above all else.
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Either way best wishes!!!
Best wishes!!!
Check out my new uploads. I think you'll like them.
I know your mum does.
--
In case of emergency oxygen masks will fall from the ceiling above your head and untangling them will annoy you before you die
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