Half awake and dreaming, these outlined thoughts fill my perspective, slowly moving slower Into this dream world.
A world of words circle like a twister around the long forgotten outlines of my subconscious, the in-between dilapidated city of half dreams that I consciously remember but never quite understood, I pass the voids of thoughts that I stray from, big black pools of tar and cement. (Their shimmery surface is inviting but I know how consuming they often are).
The half forgotten rituals which used to play in my mind before dreams, small thought patterns that danced me to sleep, slowly and softly singing songs of sweet childhood stories. I keep on the path, a darkening blanket over my body feeling as I feel my perspective ascend, past my shoulders and past my brain, finally I've made it.
The perfect point and once here I'm lost to the night.
Where my thoughts turn to dreams, meet me at the precipice
About the Creator
The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saundersa day ago in Fiction
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