Friday, April 13, 2012

What Color Is a Dream?

A field at dusk, blanketed in translucent clouds of changing color.
Blue grass sparkles with dew,
Wet diamonds scattered all around.

The only sound, a slight rustling;
Invisible beings pass through me,
Weightless and soft
Like the feathers of birds.

Instantly, I am overwhelmed by a sense of calm; peace.
I vaguely recall my corporeal world,
Dull and murky as a great, black swamp, and think:
"This is my sanctuary. Here, I am free."

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