Open, golden, scattered with homes. A road breaking apart the large expanses.
A narrow path, buildings rising far above. It seems a valley of darkness.
A mothers’ work, up well before the sun. Reaching out the window to put up the morning washing.
Doors and windows line the alley. Cracked open to the world.
The sun is searching to make an appearance in such a narrow space among the shops, doors, signs and people. A messy alley.
Each tree, unique in its own way, possessing its own story. Tall and straight, standing for their own existence.
The thick mist descends upon the tall forest. Rays of sunshine trying to make it into the thickness.
Warmth flooding through the darkness, shadows being cast.
Jutting up into the sky, a cross, salvation, forgiveness.
The road of life leads through many pastures, some of purple flowers, others of green meadows.
The cross raised high above the roof tops, proclaiming the faith of those within.
The world can portray itself in many ways. Sometimes through the veil of different lenses.