At a reunion held in an old family church, I found the two boys by themselves in a corner of the room. I nearly ran over people to sneak a shot of their innocence. I overheard the older one say how he would protect the younger one and stand up for him if anyone messed with him. No alterations were made to the photograph and no filters were used.
As we were ending our rare outing through the backwoods in the country, I turned the corner around a large oak tree. The sun broke through the towering trees to illuminate the presence of the web to keep me from walking straight into it. No alterations were made to this photograph and no filters were used.
Death Is Never More Beautiful
© 2012 by Mit Maras
In unwavering reverence,
We watch as she dances,
Hues of autumn adorn her ever reaching branches.
With a natural pluck,
Each canvas spirals down,
Until nothing but death now blankets the ground.
For so long we have sought,
The solitude of her darkest places,
Forced from shadows we now bare our own faces.
Death has now befallen her.
Yet, death … has not beaten her.
She stretches exposed arms,
Void of those she held dear,
Rooted against all threatening new life next year.
Standing bare and vulnerable,
Her loss is witnessed by all,
Heaven’s perfect example of our choice to stand tall.
Held captive in a place
Where heartache and darkness rule,
She towers the world,
All proof … death is never more beautiful.
© 2012 by Mit Maras
Miracles Unleashed 