The Green Hillside

Inward, spiralling

The river of awareness

Finds us finding

Little tensions to sweep

Along a spine that dreams

Carry slivers of me

I hope for it to find

Become a current of emotion

Wash clean the mind

The waters move slow

Run deep

Like dandelions on the green hillside tousled by the wind

Always dreaming 

Never really asleep

Find little pockets and forgotten crevices to fill

No place untouched

Nowhere to hide

Each inhale drives deeper

The will and drive

To be present with the movement

To know how to be alive

The waters move slow

Run deep

Like dandelions on the green hillside tousled by the wind

Always dreaming 

I pray

Never let me sleep

Stretch the spine longer

Push the diaphragm lower

Eyes peel open to find pale fingers

Glowing in the soft light of the sun

Filtered through whispering clouds

The gaze travels like a curious little beetle

Along crevices, callous knuckles and flaky finger beds

The air taste salty, as I imagine skin might, were my tongue to reach out and touch for just a moment

But staying still

The gaze wanders outward

To the seas

The skies

The green glistening hillside

Where we stand

Three dandelions blowing in the breeze

Dancing, falling, gently tumbling

Over the cliff

Into the Sea

Our dance is a prayer

Each gesture a story and a song

And with every sweep and stretch

The daisies and the sun seem to play along

The waters move slow

Run deep

Like dandelions on the green hillside tousled by the wind

Always dreaming 

We sing with every breath

Never let us sleep

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