Slowly open your eyes.
Away on sweet dreams, the midnight blissful field of roses and gold swirls into view. They melt far this time, colliding and living; each outdoing the other in a passionate dance for two. no more, no less, as though it were designed by otherworldly beings. Pacify the leader, then water the followers they sing and chant in unison, wanting to impress the sea of imagination from which they emerged from.
Please do not go, please stay with us and play the night away with dust and sand upon this earth of your creation. What are their names? They are never mentioned, as names are useless when dealing with the mind’s wanderings during the night. To open your eyes now would be a disaster and to close them to this realm is an action which can never be taken.
Eden come forth unto me. Gabriel sing a tune so soft it turns each person into a living melody. Sink further than any near human mind into the depths of the waves that carry my body. Can this be true? Can it be just? The case of growing older frightens me. The cause of an imagination to rot is upon me now. Twist, turn, shake me to the core, then leave me out to dry and leave an unsettled score. My palms are to the sky, the religious come forward to claim back the miracle of the internal eye, and slowly open my own eyes to the beauty that has sprang from the deepest of sleeps upon an earth I once thought barren and grey.
. . .Thank you. . .
Cover photo from: CHEKii (2016)