Thursday, August 28, 2008

And My Time was Running Wild a Million Dead End Streets



What is this feeling inside my chest

expanding to make my fingers throw sparks

creating impulses that I might craft something good from my hands, ideals, intellect?

What is this awakening making colors brighter, shapes more defined sounds clearer and my dinner taste better than ever?

Oh - I remember this...

It's HOPE!

No comments: