If I were in the sylvan glade, I would be stretched out on the grass
Engulfing me with its green sweetness, the warm earth pulsing at my back.
Iridescent clouds melt across a periwinkle sky,
Shimmering pools lap against black sands, bubbling from essence that falls from eternal heights.
I would reach out my arms and feel the tender tendrils and blossoms kiss me with joy –
I’d kiss them back and then I’d raise myself up off the ground
And go where my eyes take me always, up above the molten clouds.
Higher I tumble, and up I glide, the green land beneath me growing,
Stretching as far as every horizon – a golden circlet for the earth, wide.
I rise like a dove on the sweet orange winds until I reach the place that’s beckoned to me all this time, unknowing.
Glassy crystal waves and shines so that I can scarcely see through – I place my palm against it and nearly feel pierced through
With its icy burn and sweet sting.
Beyond, golden creatures flow in and through and all throughout, their faces of prism scarce peer out.
If they do, it splits my heart into a thousand minnows
Swimming in the warm shallows of the sea.
Then one celeste rests a gaze on me and does not take it off
My mind cannot utter a sound and my heart is reduced to ash ~
I am grasped my heaven’s hands and
Searingly, blindingly, euphorically, helplessly,
I am pulled up in a flash.