It begins with a feeling, barely there. A song from a dream you can’t remember. It might just be the most beautiful song in the world, the way it strains your nerves with effort to recall. Once floating in waves of melody, bathed in golden light. Now adrift in fragments are the embers, unwilling to…Read more For Now
The summer sun bathes all in a golden glow, a glow of burnished bronze before scorching. A little Icarus stands before me, sobbing over a red popsicle melting at his feet, feathers once floating in midair— for a moment all things were possible— now white down sticks to puddles of liquid wax. If you've read my…Read more Sunbathed
A careless fling, with little thought, perhaps a simple force of habit, set into motion, brought forth new life. And the past, like yesterday's trash, would've been long forgotten, if that small piece didn't break away from the ceaseless violence and grinding negation to wash up on the shore. And it would've been thrown back, jagged…Read more A Shard of Ocean
Single lines can be strummed together a whole, humming in repetitions a chorus reverberating long after the source can be traced. Single lines can cut, dealing out pain in shivers and slivers, incisive, unrelenting, dividing tediously every in-between of the once placid. Single lines can rise-up, up towards the light, reach out furtive tendrils, see…Read more Lines and Divisions
I remember the cool darkness as I stood backstage. My fingers were tingling, my stomach was churning, I was both excited and nervous—the classic symptoms of stage-fright that I was experiencing more and more that year. Mrs. Wozniak, my fourth-grade teacher, had nearly forgotten about the event in the auditorium that day. With just minutes to […]
All that glitters is not gold. Those who love have all the riches. Walking under the willow trees today, I imagined how amazing it would be to capture their beauty in stained glass. Willows set in jewel tones, art-deco style, cascading from the ceiling. Perhaps a ruby hummingbird or an emerald dragonfly also reveals itself within the scene upon closer…Read more Gilded Willow
Goodbye winter, hello spring? March comes in like a lion, but goes out like a lamb? Slowly we linger. The days, longer. The sunlight, brighter. A warmth to the air, dirt and water smells rising. Hopeful we remain. Could it be spring? Text and photos © M.P. Baecker and http://www.alightcircle.com 2017.