That seemingly end where they begin
Through the bushes and the trees
There is more for this heart to see
Grass peaks innocently through stone paths
I am alone and happy wandering midst the green
With certainty of step on land unknown
I've been here before , returning home
Fellow readers hijaabi in the rain is suffering from a recurring dream unlike those before. The dream each time is different but I always end up in a field. When I reach the end there are shrubs which I move aside and walk through to find yet a larger field with green hills stretching far into the horizon. I'm fully aware that I've been here before and it doesn't seem to bother me in the least . They say some dreams are from your own self a collection of the mundane everyday as well as those sprinkly happy side thoughts we have throughout the day . It is strange of all the places I could be, I chose to be amongst the grass, how dull, how simply wonderful.
Any photography on my blog is not my own.
Second skins and sins
The glass mirror cracks and stays
Go where the song will take you
A place of a different name