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I'm standing in the middle of a- what appears to be a meadow with no end in any direction. Only the horizon is a line in the distance. I would like to think that at the edge beyond my sight there is a mountain range that peeks its head into the clouds.


The grass below my feet clings to me with a cool, but emotion filled energy that is described best as warmth. I'm afraid that if I open my eyes too wide, I will be sucked out of my dream reality into pure reality. I clench my hands into fists at my sides, arms spread like an angel about to take flight. Will I grasp a dandelion floating in the wind, or a blade of grass dried up less dense than the others? Will a strand of spider silk wrap around my palm and invite its creator to fit me a glove?


The wind bounces off of the sides of my face, playfully, aerodynamically rounding the curves that are the essence of my creation. I wonder where each molecule goes, as when I shift my eyes to follow the breeze, it is nowhere to be found.


There is no butterfly fluttering before me, but if it were- I would feel no less nor more accompanied nor alone. I gasp for breath- knowing that I will receive it, confused at the purity of the air, choking on the relief that I am breathing. I feel a tear develop in my eye and I wonder if the sun that shines and reflects its light through it can see it- should I be overcome by shyness. I blush, to myself, and am pleased to find the veins in my face are still functional.


My fingers caress my own skin, for once, in far too long. Each line in my palm becomes ambiguous, unreadable as I understand that my destiny has been, and always has been fulfilled for every moment that I hesitate to raise my foot off of the ground and take my very first step in the future.

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  • 5 weeks later...

Great piece of writing. As FreeHandGlow said, I could picture that as in a movie, with how descriptive it was. Makes me want to write something similar, about my dream landscape. :biggrin2:

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