There's a cold wind blowing softly through a narrow, dark ravine. A sound is heard, soft and everywhere, like the rustle of silk.  It echoes from every dismal reaching corner of the abyss, and whispers of the aching loneliness within the crevasse.  A cold, blue-white light transcends an aura of weird lifelessness to the jagged rocks of the cleft walls.  There appears a soul within all of this, like a thin frail mist, congealing within its center -- a tiny translucent gray cloud.



~Ralph Kenyon

 


Be the first to post a comment.



Previously published:

All 2,397 blog entries

Photography by David Lee Black Studios. All images copyrighted. DavidLeeBlack.com


RSS |