Tuesday, January 12, 2016

The Daydream

     Walk into the glowing reflection where there’re both faeries and black witches battling for supremacy in every thought and footstep that you take,

     feel the light living in your spirit and the magnetic pull towards the shadows, the soft moss underfoot and the rocks that cut your soul,

     hear the white noise which is etching away at your heart and see the flickering images that torment you every night parade before you in the street,

     (then) sit on the swing in the park and chase bare feet into the sky, as high as you did when you were a child, when the lack of doubt and worries made you weightless and you would drift through cotton wool clouds, untouchable,

     and stay there as long as you like, ‘til the sun warms the descending dusk, ‘til the night captures your being, ‘til the breeze blows away all your yesterdays and the darkness has bled you dry. Only then will you feel the silver rays of the waning full moon brush your cheeks with a kiss to wish you well.