I dreamed the earth with wild imagination conjuring the deepest blues,
The brightest greens,
Dazzling autumn golds,
Crashing waters,
Whispering winds,
Crackling ice,
Soft dew on my feet,
Warm sun on my face,
Under glittering heavens,
Upon glistening sands,
And softly beckoning moss,
Standing before mountains so high they let the divinity in,
And chasms so deep they touched the soul of creation,
Captivated by awe,
In the stillness of the crashing waves,
In the peace of rumbling thunder,
Pierced by the truth of lightning,
Illuminated by rainbows,
And dancing moon shadows,
Enchanted by twisting,
Leaping,
Bounding aurora,
A symphony of pink,
Orange,
And purple,
Dancing across the sky as day turns into night,
And night into day,
A riot of gentleness caressing my senses,
A wondrous display of glorious expression,
A soul fire so intense it breathes stardust into life,
A lustrous jewel spinning through an infinite black ocean,
Inspiring every breath to be filled with the joy of life,
A yearning of soul,
To be the brightest,
Most colourful self,
Matching the vibrancy of creation with every heartbeat,
Was it me who dreamed the earth,
Or the earth who dreamed me,
At the tips of my fingers,
In the soft touch of earth's boundless expression,
Lives the knowing,
The earth is not dreaming,
Neither am I.
