Softness of the wet dirt spoke and told Shelley how it passed its secrets to the flowers and the wind and the sky and the sun.
Stones, cold and musical, held epics to share, so Shelley took a few in his pocket.
A lonely tree filled Shelley’s ears with endless tales about messiahs that walked and disappeared, blessing every of its kind on the way with blissful shade to ever stay by them. It assured Shelley that this was the tale that the leaves were always singing about. When Shelley stopped to ask a leaf, the leaf swayed by and danced away.
Then the wind slowed down and everywhere stillness started to settle, Shelley looked at the pink polished cloudy sky. In this stillness the ecstatic was happening and Shelley could see it for the first time.
Elated, Shelley got up and looked all around. Taking the softness of the wet dirt along, Shelley continued the journey.
The journey to inner ecstasy…may it never end..made me smile. 🙂 🙂 🙂
I am glad. 🙂 Thank you.