09 August 2010


If you walk through a forest thick with bracken, past where wooden fences hold you in, you can find a meadow filled with wild flowers where the sunlight bounces off every corner, making shadows dance across the tall wavy grass.
On spring mornings, where dew gently covers each and every petal, you can hear the ring of silence in your ears. No one, not even the sparrows dare break this ring of tranquility.
A small stream runs just to the border of the open hill, the water bounces off the smooth pebbles, clenching the thirst of young deer with their wary mothers watching over.
The paddock is a rainbow of colours, each and every flower glowing in the wind.
This is a place of my dreams, come and join me, come and dance.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I read this post awake and on the phone to you. Later that night I awoke after dreaming about you. This is my dream.

"I took a wander down a path, cobblestones beneath my feet. It led me on a forest walk, past the elongated, wooden stumps of imprisonment. I curiously followed the stones to a rolling grassy field, blooming with blossom and life. The beams of sunlight filled me with warmth, radiating upon the meadow, allowing blue and black sprites of umbra, penumbra and antumbra to leap across the stalks of green.
'Twas a spring morn, as you said it would be, the globules of life laying peacefully upon the foliage. I paused and listened for a moment to the absence of sound, the fauna and flora giving audience to the silence alongside me.
Guided by your words,I stumbled across the small stream, its water gushing over the pebbles and stones, forming a babbling brook giving life to those who drink, and comfort to those who dabble.
Gazing back at the world, an eternally blissful bubble of beautiful hues, I smiled. The world seemed to smile back, the flowers swaying in the wind as if to wave hello.
I've entered your place of dreams, and you were there waiting for me, mo shíorghrá..."

I'll take that dance now, if the offer is still open.

I love you.