Member-only story
Like Walking
On air.
I feel like I’m floating in heaven.
Could it be that I’m walking on air?
It’s like drifting into liberation.
Without worry or care.
In between mystical moments
As night transcends into day
The sun’s rays colour the morning.
From a world that’s eons away.
Transparent hues of the rainbow
Walk-in skies of imagination
The eye climbs the arc and slides.
Down the mystical parts of creation.
The morning clouds form a stairway.
Across the horizon and sea
Leading the way to nirvana
At hand but too far to see.
The mist lies like a soft blanket.
Disappearing into the morning sun
The fog hovers down below.
Morning is on the run.
The layers of air lie suspended.
The translucence is palpable.
Looking like solid objects
Turns out to be intangible.
