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A welcome glint

In moments of stillness, when the chaos quiets and nature reveals its gentle truths, even a fleeting beam of sunlight becomes a messenger of...

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

The secret atop the hill

The eerie halo, blanketing the sacred ruins atop the hill, is torn apart by fluorescent flickers on moonless nights. Faint, almost like an illusion. Imaginations conjure bygone romances to life; reality, wizened manuses of a priest. Temple-tales weave themselves into our eventides.


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8 comments:

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.

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