But the rain
Didn’t come
Just as well
She thought
Letting the surf
Wash high up
Her pretty
Yellow
Boots
Accept the beauty
In what is revealed
Keep faith in the obscured
Some things
Were born of the tempest
And their beauty lies
In the storm
Hands pocketed
Shoulders hunched
Voices hushed
They’re a beautiful sight
These denizens of stormy weather
There’s a strength
In their solemn wonder
Here where nature runs her course
Indifferent to the human presence
While the humans revel quietly
In hers
Eyes closed
In your arms
A burst of colour
Beyond any sunset
Isolated
And alone
But tides turn
And so do I
So soon
The sea
Reveals
The sand
And I
Am one
With the
World
Again
And I wonder
Need I say more?
Or is there more
To say?
I could ask
What might she say?
Caught in the moment
Mind gone astray
That moment is hers
Not mine to know
Nor is it yours
Not part of the show
As a photographer
I have never been satisfied with
Two dimensions
A single moment in time
Or even reality
I prefer
To create
Rather than
Record
Light is my palette
A digital file my canvas
A computer my brush
And all the world
Is beautiful data
To be transformed into art
No matter
The beauty
Remains the same
In the yin and yang
Of it all
It is all the same
Pix to Words 