SEA OF GOLD

fuckingbizarre:

Sea of Gold by Maciej Bartnicki on 500px

 

The sun sets

on glistening sand.

The ground splits open

to reveal a path.

Miles into the distance,

the path continues.

Through the mud,

you trudge.

Sinking into the muck,

you forge ahead.

Roadblocks or rocks

won’t deter you.

A crooked road it may be,

but follow it you must

until the bitter end.

WE WAIT

Browse

Richard Misrach, ‘Clearing Storm Near Kingman,’ 1985, Robert Mann Gallery

 

Emptiness.

A vast open space.

Open to the sky.

Coated in dust and mud.

Rearranged by sand storms.

Washed by the rain.

We wait for help.

For the weather.

For settlers.

For investors.

We wait.

ROUND AND ROUND WE GO

lifeisthefight:

ROUND AND ROUND WE GO

The day began bright and sunny.
The merry-go-round turned round and round.
Children’s laughter filled the air.
Followed by shouts of joy.
The smell of popcorn wafted by.
Followed by the sweet smell
of cotton candy.
Round and round went the horses.
Followed by the mothers’ eyes.
Round and round we go.
Followed by the rays of sunlight.

Until the sky turned dark.
Heavy with clouds.
Followed by shrieks of thunder.
The sky lit up with lightning.
The merry-go-round was pelted by rain drops.
Followed by a heavy downpour.
The horses circled faster and faster.
The mothers followed.

Until all was gone.
All that was left was mud.
No merry-go-round.
No children.
No mothers.
No shouts of laughter.
Only wet grass.
Where did they disappear to?
To a better place?
To a place without thunder and lightning?
Your guess is as good as mine.