A PLACE OF FANTASY

A place of fantasy there must be,
where blues and green merge in the deep sea.

Clouds create formations into works of art,
resembling soft cotton balls splitting apart.

I raise my face to the sunshine of the day,
the rays shooting sparks as they frolic and play.

The sand is soft beneath my feet,
warming my body with its heat.

Come with me and enjoy the dazzling sun,
we’re sure to have fun till the day is done.

A BIRD

mstrkrftz:

Rise and Shine by Sabir Ayaz

To keep flying.
Or to join my friends.
So many choices.
All are good.
The sun is setting.
I can feel its warmth
on my feathers.
While the warm breeze ruffles them.
The water looks calm.
I can see my friends swimming
with the current.
They look content and happy.
What a beautiful day
to be alive.
To be a bird.

PARADISE IS CALLING MY NAME

What would paradise
look like to you?
I would say that it would
look like this picture.
A house in calm water.
The air smelling of flowers.
People moving in slow motion.
No need to hurry.
Warm breezes.
Sun shining.
Birds chirping.
What else could you
possibly ask for?

CLOSE YOUR EYES

openyourthird-eye:

lunarspace:

ॐ☽ NATURE ◅☼▻ SPIRITUAL ☾ॐ The "4957 Miles" story

A book can bring images to mind.
Happy images or frightful images.
Anywhere you might want to visit,
you can close your eyes and
see it in your mind’s eye.
On a day that you might feel agitated or sad,
you can envision a scene of perfect tranquility.
Sit back, take off your boots, and close your eyes.
A whole word will open before you.
A world with open spaces, tall mountains, and
horses grazing in the green grass.
The sun is sparkling on the sand and rocks.
Mosquitoes are buzzing in the warm breeze.
You can hear the sound of a horse’s soft neigh.
No one else is around;
only you and the horses.
Sounds nice?
Close your eyes and dream your own dream.
Since it’s your own creation,
you can never be disappointed.

CHANTING IN THE WARM BREEZE

Chanting could be heard in the warm breeze.
A breeze that blows in from the ocean and
smooths the white sand.
A breeze that feels like the soft flutter of
a rose petal against your skin.
Where is the chanting coming from?
Who is doing the chanting?
What do we only hear it at night?
Are spells being cast in Oasis?
Only The Dead know and they’re not talking.

THE DEAD GAME BY SUSANNE LEIST
http://www.amazon.com/author/susanneleist
http://barnesandnoble.com/w/the-dead-game-susanne-leist/1116825442?ean=2940148410881