brush stroke

The power of creation lies within us all, a beautiful concept. A cradle of life, a base of everything.

A beautiful thing to just wish and it is done. To create is to reflect, to extend ones self. Maybe further or maybe even deeper into reality. Yet, what is this reality you may seek, or may observe or maybe even acknowledge, experience.

Going with the flow granting life, dancing upon the wind. Her dress would glide along the blades of grass, catching themselves between her toes. Tiny little check points, they would greet her skin along this path. Ever so full of life, guiding her to a great translucent batch of moving life. Grazing her foot along the back of this new sense of life, she giggled. Now floating among that which she called bliss, she would find a friend. She lived in it and it in her they were one and yet separate. Never too far from one another though, for finding a friend would be as simple as looking inward

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