Dappled sunlight streams through the foliage of the trees as I lay and watch the clouds. A soft breeze stirs the folds of my dress and the curls in my hair.

The sea of emeralds upon which I lay is as soft as angel’s wings’ down. I feel as though I am lying upon the clouds of which I am longing for.

I long to float through the sky as they do;
Ever changing yet the same;
Without a care in the world.

Clouds see everything. A vault of secrets, kept behind soft lips for eternity; only ever whispering to one another in the wind. Only ever half heard by humans, this forbidden language of the skies.

The sky, the colour of amethyst is full of mingled blues and purples. The sun, the artist, to which shall change her pallet as her shift comes to an end and the moon takes it’s place, highlighting the world in a pearlescence tinge.

I roll on to my stomach and stare at the greenery around me. Ferns, willows, morning glories, daisies, lavender, every flower possible. All hidden away in my secret jewelry box, for my senses only. An explosion of colour, as bright as fire works shimmering in the shadows and in the sun of the glade. I smell the flowers, such an aroma. A buffet of smells, wafts towards me on the gentle summer breeze. Too beautiful for words, I could smell it every day, every night. The flowers encapsulate me as a wall, protecting me, shielding me from the black, malevolent nightmares of the real world.

I hear the calls of the birds as they glide through the glade towards the waterfall, just past the willows. I hear the thrust of their wings as they sore higher and higher, past the clouds, past the universe and in to the heavens! Where all is calm, and pure; sublime. Where there is no hate, no war, only love.

How I long to be the clouds, floating and changing; how I long to be those flowers, perfect and pristine; how I long to be those birds, floating on a whim, full of ecstasy. How I long to be able to stay, laying on my bed of emeralds, behind my wall of protection. In the warm sunshine, which strokes my skin till it’s warm and happy. Peace, serenity, calm. I am one with the glade and it is one with I; an entire being made whole, by two parts.

But…

I must return, for they shall wonder where I am. The sun is setting; her time is done, as is mine. The mingled purple and blues have disappeared and a brilliant, golden red hue has settled upon everything. Dusted gold floats in the air as I depart my haven to face the dangers of the real world once more. But I will return…