Gouache & Watercolor
12" x 18"
Knocking, rapping, at the front door.
A familiar feeling, I've been here before.
Same time, same place.
An undeniable grace.
On the lips of giants and the hilts of man.
A hum is heard, from when time began.
Not a word was spoke, though many were thought.
Not a fish was eaten, though many were caught.
Looked over and inspected, as off times before.
Thrown back to the lake, to breed some more.
Thoughts are like pools, some sustain life.
Others hold struggle, sorrow, and strife.
So which will yours be? When the sun is in halt?
A lush flowing river? Or a puddle thick with salt?