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Buttercup meadows

I go to buttercup meadows and I think, Maybe one day I can know how to take someone to buttercup meadows the time of a massage. I can work on them in the tickling grass, while thousands of empathic buttercup blossoms mirror the sun’s force, and winds soft like air out of the nostrils of a cow blend butterflies and dragonflies with sparks of their brilliant thinking. There would have to be an oak tree near, for grounding and rising, and for memory. When I am done, I would gently bring them back where they are in this world, regenerated, radiant and strong, untouchable by dark.

buttercup_meadows.txt · Last modified: 2015/05/31 20:23 by emily