From the deep ebony stain of years, of seasons, the dry crack gives way to the creep of unexpected color.
Bouncing funnels, yellow and fresh, make their way to the surface.
Clouds gather, convene and disperse. The stalks become brittle and shrink under the sun’s still breath.
But the water descends again and the dew awakens the dawn from within.
Snap of form, comfort of color again return with flush anew.