A nonexistent weight which weighs me down and burdens the soul with it's influence Which is never felt. Once taken away from the bricklayer the glue is touched by a strangers hands. The craftsman, who is an expert in his craft causes the glue to sepparate. One by one the stones fall away. Each missing brick leaves a hole which allows me to see something new, raw, true, and joyous.
Innocence is it's air and oxygen.
Clarity and hopes it's foundation. Each from the love of the father. Though it isn't always familiar there is something of a mirrors image in the apparition. Left becomes right, and right becomes left to my hindered eye making an almost perfect vision tangible in essence for a little while. Though only for a while.