Sunday, 19 July 2009

The glaze of sunshine breaks across, the falling down of grass,
that slides down the hillside.
Today is Saturday. Today i am surrounded by people.
Waterpools of splashing cold clear noise.
The rustling of paper; a man somewhere in a corner whistles.
These sounds surround my slowly awakening head.
The sun laps upon my ankles, blossoming in slow swaying Summertime flowers,
as children draw pictures,
and dance as they sit upon rugs composed of fragrant colours.
Umbrellas, sandals, straw hats, leaves and green.
Muffled singing echoes from a tent,
all around me people move, and talk and celebrate and watch.
And within the depths of the shaded grass,
beneath their tentacle depths and cross fingered holding of the land
where cities and dreams exist, and rust never sleeps,
movements and shadows flicker in the soil,
and badges made of the faces of a thousand donkeys lay upon the grass.
As the light upon the water caresses and soothes the shaded heads
of all those who attempt to distance themselves from sunshine.

Today i am myself, in my mind i strive to be only this.
No thoughts or emotional slurs of what else exists,
behind these walls.

And when i drift into delusions of anything else
i promise to instead,
stare at the trees or the clouds
and concentrate upon my breath.

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