The binding intertwining twisting and turning symbiosis of hope and her sister, art…

Creation abounds, offering the fluttering of wings that touches the mind and soul

Sensing that light behind the eyes

Yielding tingling sensations shimmering beneath the skin’s surface…

The lilt of a tune, the line in the lyric

Transporting you over waves of time

fluid and floating, then stopping in an instant to lay claim to and retrieve that

moment of hope.

Wandering in a gallery, drawn up short by the humor, the heart break, the prescience of a secret message imparted from giver to receiver.

Stray days with no agenda bursting moments into consciousness of a striated sky in pastels indescribable or a pure blue with no known name striven to be imprinted beyond the memory through a dab or a stroke.

Nimble fingers and powerful palms shape, mold, draw lines to build solidly stationary or flowing movement that are magically morphed into coded messages whose

secrets are slowly, but surely released.

Dahlias and daisies, holly and juniper berries, new buds and fiery leaves

captured in the click of a camera,

Their beauty so definite, there’s a little ache behind the visage they insinuate into your retina.

The cloak surrounding and seeping into the crevices and cracks left between arteries and organs for alphabets to coalesce into stories needing to be told, to be heard, to fill those spaces.

Imaginings, ideas, thoughts, inspiration – one to another to another,

Pull the heart and it’s orchestra of emotions toward sensing, knowing, believing, that hope is well and good

And just waiting patiently to

Take care of you when you can’t carry yourself.

Here is “lilt of a tune, the line in the lyric”…           

With Love,

Susan Ceely Philips

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