Thursday, April 16, 2009



Thoughts blowing in the wind,

Visions like autumn leaves

Swirling about, momentarily

Caught in the lens of clarity, only

To be swept away again, sans focus.

I am THAT camera, the magical toy

Created for today’s memories left

To search for an image tomorrow.

Why this struggle to wade through

The vast wasteland of hedonism

If there is nothing worth saving?

Perhaps, I am just that tyro with

A camera only to have a blind eye.

The journey continues, propelled by

The belief that beauty does exist and

Can be saved through the lens of hope.


1 comment:

  1. such an encouraging poem Jon.
    i really enjoyed it!