Tag Archives: Imagination

Symphony of the night

Sym­phony of the night, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. A fiery red sun sets in the west, night rises swiftly in the east, a blood red moon her­alds the arrival of age old mys­ter­ies. Silently approaches the mas­quer­ade of ancient crea­tures, on wings of desire, gath­er­ing in the cham­bers of an old lav­ish man­sion. Time

A lonely scene

A lonely scene, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. And she walked in soli­tude Through the gar­den of silence On the day of the mid­night sun Walked On another path to nowhere Pass­ing the guardians of now And the rem­nants of the past As always The sands of time kept rush­ing Drift­ing beneath her feet Mak­ing

Childhood dreams of yore

Worlds of child­hood dreams, hid­den from us in plain sight, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Child­hood dreams of yore Hid­den amongst for­est’ trees Walk slow to find them © Thorsten Becker

Midnight sun over a quiet scene

Mid­night sun over a quiet scene, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Fol­low my foot­steps Come to where the mid­night sun Shines dimly by day © Thorsten Becker

Treading lightly and slow, for trees are never in a rush

Walk­ing very slowly, for trees are never in a rush, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. New dawn, at the end of a blue light night and stars bright white. Slowly rise in the east days of splen­dor warm and green, where first rain falls on soft new leaves, where winter’s sleep is gen­tly washed away

The Indian at the funfair

The Indian at the fun­fair, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Evening fell on the tum­bling city below like a vel­vet blan­ket. Lights streamed from the fun­fair down­town, cast­ing a rain­bow of col­ors on a par­tially cloudy sky. A large har­vest moon smiled on the busy traf­fic below before gaz­ing back at the stars. The sun

The silence heralds Charon’s imminent arrival

The silence her­alds Charon’s immi­nent arrival, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. That which was fad­ing has now come to pass. The last win­ter light, ash and livid, floats across the waters, above bare trees, watch­ing for the pass­ing of the sea­son of white and slum­ber. New light breaks across the sky. Famil­iar sil­hou­ettes begin to