Clear, baby blue skies.
keep your head in the books.
Our Soul is the best friend we keep forgetting we have.
It’s closer than our breath & older than death.
It dreams like a mountain, laughs like a river, & communicates with us in the exuberantly mysterious style of the elements & the gods.
Listen, can you hear it calling now…?
Dear Soul-Self. Beloved World-Soul, may we see ourselves in each other. Then we can Be. Yes the ‘Me’ becomes the ‘We’.
So be my slow-motion dance. Be my centennial supernova. Be my ripe pomegranate floating in a blue plastic swimming pool on the first day of Autumn, as I stand with my sword raised high. Be my handstand at sunrise, my whirlwind week in clown school, my joke shared with a Siberian shaman while shopping for socks. Be my puzzle with one piece missing. Be the waves crashing on a beach in New Zealand in the 23rd century. Be my golden hammer resting on the moss of a ten-million-year-old rock…
x. Lainy.
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Lucid lines that linger long past the last page: click here!
About the Creator
LUCID LAINY
| lucidlainy.com | @lucidlainy | @thelucidmuse | @theluciddose | BIO: I've been dreaming my whole life ... and now all I am left with is lucid lines that linger, long past the last page. Come get lost with me, I'd love to leave you, lucid.
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