Imagination

I can almost feel the molecules that make up the pink clouds. A bright, yet subtle hanger that's seems so close, but is so far away. Like the settling of a tree where it's seed was planted the roots search for life far below the surface. The wind brushes against each leaf and in unison I can hear the angels whisper. The setting of the sun and it's last glare kisses the edges of the clouds illuminating the sky partially before night sets in. The ruler of the stars drifting off to deliver light to another part of the world and making way for the smaller stars to be present. The moon light on crashing waves with a cool breeze brings me closer to each ball of gas for star gazing. The sand is cool and the smell of the ocean reminds me of my existence in this universe. Far beyond the horizon my soul lingers to look over the edge. The mountain tops are so small in the distance I trace over their silhouette with my fingertips, imagining how crisp and the thin the air maybe. I look down into the valley below watching how every intricate detail is aligned and corresponds with one an other. I can hear the birds traveling together, the animals rustling in the wilderness and the worms deep below the blades of grass. And that is when I can almost feel the molecules that make up the pink clouds. 1/29/2016