a poem by Colleen Thomas, India

I open my eyes to a beaming sky;

With an outstretched arm,

I feel the blue tranquility.

The grass whispers,as it communes with my skin.

I lift myself,effortlessly,

As if gravity were a myth.

Feel the silk as it caresses my cold arms.

The wind carries me with it,

And I yield.

It is friendly today,this wind.

It cradles me gently,

And I remember those delicate arms around me.

I find myself beside a singing brook,

Gargling notes of contrast;

As if to speak of serenity and frolic in a single word.

The cool,clear fluid goes through my grasp,

And I watch the crystal drops

Rejoin their innocent world.

A butterfly darts into sight;

The sudden realization of living,besides myself.

The butterfly stares at me,or seems to,

As it hovers around my head,

In an invisible halo.

There is no guile in this neighbourhood,

Or want,or debt;

No pain,nor mortal death;

Or distraction,or melancholy;

Just the thought of BEING.

A constant communion with creation and the Creator.

The language is unspoken,unuttered;

But still heard.

I can wait for this to end,

For I don't believe it will.

Don't wake me from this dream,

It is the one that keeps me alive.

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