This too shall pass and then I will walk beyond… may be into the meadow that Rumi talked about in his verse. Or may be ‘BEYOND’ for me is a window overlooking a lush green mountain, or even sun kissing the horizon before giving into the sea for waves to caress it after a hot tiring day.
The thought of BEYOND caresses my eyes with hope.
Just like the pink dawn steals its way into the foggy winter morning lighting up the white shimmer of mist.
Beyond is like living in the clouds. I like living in the clouds. They have mystic way of blanketing the blue yonder and when they close-in touching the earth giving out a pleasant shiver to the soul. I imagine them like a soft pashmina covering my shoulders as I walk through the rain-washed earth breathing in the petrichor, mesmerized by the dew drops hanging on the blade of grass like a trapeze ready for the act.
Someday when all is said and done, I will find my Beyond.
worlds or words
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