Stumble Dawn

Ron Koppelberger

Stumble Dawn

In portraits of torn cotton and smudged cheeks he crafted the limits of endurance, cutting intent, in the measure of a stumbling search for the treasures and esteem of a nurtured dream. In the frost and fill of an amber dawn and an unwinding trail of enchanted mission. He stumbles and gains the balance of an eternal quest for the love and lair of sated morning-tide ascension.
He finds grace in the breath of a nascent beginning, unto the day and the longing desire to find the place of his birth, the conceived momentum wrought by circumstances in culture, society and the hands of chance. By rumpled cloths and shoes shorn by the endless shuffle of summoned meanderings and trail torn passage.
He finds passion in the refuge of certain freedoms and homeless acclaim. The depth of a rare wine sought by pilgrims and pastors in search of firefly light, butterfly distinctions of liberty and revolutionary instinct. By and by he exhorts the primal life, the purest notion of stumble dawn and lives lived unseen.