The clouds are combing the sky with the perfect
radiance of blue; a clear blue that is shadowing
down on this landscape of comfort.
I am laying here, in the middle of this field of green
watching the wind kiss the branches of time
with a soft bliss.
There is nothing on my mind except being here;
no unpaid bills, no kept secrets,
no stressed filled hesitations, just me here
in this beautiful imagination of reality. The warmth
of the grass is whispering against my neck
as the eyes of Tulips smile politely towards me
hypnotizing my mind into a gentle
Here, I am exposed to a new and different
temperature of existence. I am the artist
looking up and around at an oil painted canvas
of escape. And I am thinking that this could
be the place where dreamers
go to dream those fascinated themes;
a place where magic foils the earth
with just the right touch of extravagance.
This could be the place where laughter
never dies and the tears of angels
never dry. This could be the place
we go in that next lifetime where the echoes
of ancestors forever fly. Or this could be the place
our lifeline calls home.
This could be heaven.
Tarringo T. Vaughan