The lens of a camera seeks in unionisms with the third eye,
A small window with which the eye relies to frame-up all your implies,
We focus out on personal reflections from within so they wont go awry,
Lets document the beauty of this world before it all returns to the sky,
It's time to journey through the lens of the photographer with the tips of our eye's,

for it’s the photograph that remains long after goodbyes,

The film within a camera acts like that of our soul,

It uses the essence of light in Fragments which piece together and expose the whole,
One day all those fragments will join through essence for the console,
Artistic visions are the essence of light for all to extol,
Without photographs memories of our stars would collapse into black holes,
It's time to attach a telescopic lens so we can see beyond the depth to where it unfolds,

The inner beauty of a soul will always manifest itself through creativity,
Liquid it's your proclivity of imagery that creates this poetic reactivity,
You exuberantly enhance objects and teach us that all "things" have a personality,
Your photographs ripple through our sensory activity which ripples back relativity,
Your sensitivity towards life radiates which will cultivate your longevity,
So lets now explore your inside angle which will always keep us in captivity,

You've captured emotions, shadows and couches resting,
You've given us clover's, ivy and lily's without contesting,
You've bestowed tracks, mud, and paintings without anybody requesting,
You've created memories of nature, cattle and corn for the digesting,
You've enhanced surroundings and boundaries without suggesting,
You've taken us to places we wouldn't have seen, that's the best thing,

You have frozen pieces of time from your mind for all 2 see,
Like the mirrored lake and out of its middle came a white tree that frees,
Like pink bolts, the window behind the brick or the string of leaves in the tree,
Like a mossy wood post, Snomden's barn, or the hub caps that just be,
Like the pictures of people who hold similar expressions of that of u and me,
Like the dog and the deer showing interest to each other before the flee,
Like "the pond" where u doctored-up and remixed the photo as would an emcee,

You portrayed to me that cracks exist to let the light through,
That a vertical window pane with raindrops can paint pictures too,
That the morning dew brushes rust on a hood that's blue,
That a pile of junk is beautiful and equally abstract as me and you,
That a littered bottle was taken in by earth to show us its new found view,
That a photo entitled "blue" looks like crystals that will renew,
That Mississippi bares a tree with a heart, who knew,

I could go on forever with these words liquid, but you and I know a picture is worth a million of them, so no velvet tears when this poem comes to an end, consider it a gift 2 you for exposing life's gems...

© 10/14/2008 The Scribe