this setting is familiar; all the people are gone.
there are no roads that bring the outside world here.
carved Turkish script etched above a doorway and gigantic wells
whisper that life may return.
in time the forgotten fruit trees may be pruned and harvested again.
thick belts of grass beckons us to rest our bodies.
the dreamscape layed out across the valley tells us to rest our minds.
the morning comes and brings an explosion of fluttering colour; life
has certainly returned.
a rabble of butterflies cascades around us, and we ponder at never
leaving, again.
hugs and love from the Sleeping Villages in Turkey. gobble gobble.
joe
