Soul, stay green!

Soul, stay green! Remain a delicate, flowering thing!

Every day I magic-me. I try to keep my heart clean, journeying back to natural imagery where dreams of green & mystic scenes pounce on my air and I forget about money.

Blown by Earth’s mouth, rain falls out of pregnant clouds and brings on my neon spring.

Dreamtime — juniper leaves and mint tea. Morning — Japanese facial cream, emails piled up on that tired glowing screen.

Metropolis calls to me, but I sip steady on the vodka of cosmos. Oil diffuser glows, a domestic swamp creature huffing peppermint.

Washing up in minty sunbeams, I think I love myself the most when I stay green, drinking celery and forgetting to feel rushed by the hum of Internet’s surrogate reality.

I stay far downstream, deep in me, where lime-coloured parakeets have only good reasons to sing.

Here, the trees are bewitched broccoli Here, I do not die inside when you forget me I kiss my magic self esteem, feeling like dirt’s holistic queen Moonlight makes whipped cream out of the emerald lake & even without worldly credentials, my heart is full.

And yes, the other colours take their turns. Egg yolk wheat, slate blue sleet, bright purple beets. The magenta whirl of flowers reminds me of my primordial powers.

But here’s the thing, I look for green: health, soul-wealth, ways to melt, love that makes the whole world feel like greenbelt.

I know that my feelings are better off felt away from the cage of economy’s pace, always rushing, rushing, rushing all ways! Modern mechanical stream!

Soul, stay green! Stay fertile/cool, playful/jeweled, Let’s fantasy up jungle leaves, and go where we have space to breathe, More time to wonder: Who is me? Who is we?

Mysticism, mercy, meditation. In the Amazon the shamans speak of another life, the Realness of dreams. Well, here goes: my dreams know I have a green soul.

Manicures, mojitos. Women, men. I sweat the superficial before bed. I remember friends I may not see again, and though I know I’m not yet dead, I wonder sometimes, if it is too late to try again?

Close the Macbook Air. Breathe in cold air. Chop the basil and the pears, think of black bears tumbling over mossy green felt.

Is this life here? Of course! I am green when I have fun with things, and remember my wings... I would never find these answers their course, In a dream once I was told, don't be afraid, you are born of soul!

Here, turquoise fish glitter their pickled gills, Nature brings its wet dream sort of thrill, & butterflies dance a green Mexican salsa.

To my soul: stay green! Remain a prized, protected thing… Your stuff is more powerful than hundred dollar bills.

I sage the room. I sage the gloom. Say yes to you. Don’t believe in the sadness of their brew.

I am green when I have fun with things, when I remember my wings... My colour is rebirth, it sometimes hurts, but with it I reinvent myself, with ease. Like green.