I rest my consciousness
On the proliferating meadows
That stretch toward the sun,
That sway in placid solitude
In the tacit winds
That flow across my body.
I rest my consciousness
In the stars of the night
That caress my jaded visage
And assure me that my wishes
Will manifest themselves
Within my beating heart.
I rest my consciousness
Atop mountains and peaks
That envision a world of harmony
By harboring the aspirations
Of those who stand atop them,
Awe-struck by the omnipresent calm.
I rest my consciousness
In the landscape of my thoughts
That, like the meadows,
Will stretch onward
Until I draw my last breath
And exhale dispassionately.
I rest my consciousness
In the world of make-believe,
In the world that accepts me
Not because I am normal,
But because I can only be content
When I channel my inner wordsmith.
I rest my consciousness
In a night filled with silence
And, as I close my eyes
And let the dark fall over me,
I grin, cognizant
That my dreams are boundless.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
I rest my consciousness
On the proliferating meadows
That stretch toward the sun,
That sway in placid solitude
In the tacit winds
That flow across my body.
I rest my consciousness
In the stars of the night
That caress my jaded visage
And assure me that my wishes
Will manifest themselves
Within my beating heart.
I rest my consciousness
Atop mountains and peaks
That envision a world of harmony
By harboring the aspirations
Of those who stand atop them,
Awe-struck by the omnipresent calm.
I rest my consciousness
In the landscape of my thoughts
That, like the meadows,
Will stretch onward
Until I draw my last breath
And exhale dispassionately.
I rest my consciousness
In the world of make-believe,
In the world that accepts me
Not because I am normal,
But because I can only be content
When I channel my inner wordsmith.
I rest my consciousness
In a night filled with silence
And, as I close my eyes
And let the dark fall over me,
I grin, cognizant
That my dreams are boundless.
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