Beanery Online Literary Magazine

February 21, 2008


Filed under: Visitor Writings — beanerywriters @ 3:12 am
Tags: , ,

A pause before entering.
The smells of wood wafting the air and rising,
As eyes gazing upwards to the open emptiness.
Energies contracting and expanding.
Breathing rhythmically.
A place of sensation.
A space to vision visions and dream dreams.
A portal to another world.The art of wood sculpting comes alive.


(to read the rest of this poem click on THE WOOD SHOP )

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