drenched

The river rolled into town this morning, frothing at the mouth. I caught it as it slid down the sand, leaving branches in it's wake. Everything is redeemed in the soft light beneath gray skies. Beer cartons afloat become life boats for insects and abandoned hopes.

The desert has become electric. Lightening carving the sky in the early morning. The sound of the heavens spreading, the gutteral choruses of angels, wake me from my sleep. When the light slips into my room it finds me restless, burning through my dreams of torquise lakes and mountains that never end.

My soul whistles in it's locomotion.
The inspiration surges once more