Etchings in the Sand…

Thoughts and Photos from the Desert…

The Springs…

 sulfur springs.jpg

The Springs…

In a country without saints or shrines
I knew one who made his pilgrimage
to springs, where in his life's dry years
his mind held on. Everlasting,
people called them, and gave them names.
The water broke into sounds and shinings
at the vein mouth, bearing the taste
of the place, the deep rock, sweetness
out of the dark. He bent and drank
in bondage to the ground.

Wendell Berry
Collected Poems

the spring.jpg

Sulfur Spring

Park Lake, Kentucky

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