This is my escape.
My safe place.
My little corner.
It’s where I can exhale,
Take a breath and breathe.
I can lye here, open and calm
Beneath this expanse of black,
Broken by twinkling pinpricks,
And simply forget.
My eyes, unveiled, can see the dancers.
They twirl about up there,
No cares in the world,
Stepping to some unearthly tune.
I can see the great bear,
His mighty paw in the river of
Flashing colors, digging for a fish.
I can see the miracle child,
Its chubby cheeks stretched into a smile,
Its happiness as it climbs the rainbow.
Lying here, I can hear the whispers
Of the wind as it tells its stories of old.
I can hear the high laughter of the fairies
Who hide in the garden.
I can hear the sweet, golden melody
Of the stars as they play their endless tune.
Out here, I can feel the earth shake as the
Giants stumble through the woods.
I can feel the tiny tremors in the air
From the beating of the bees’ wings.
I can feel the gentle touch of long grass
Blown about in the spring wind.
But my eyes, ears, hands,
They begin to fail.
The sun is rising, full and bright.
And though it is beautiful, warm,
It is the knife that pierces
My blanket,
My hiding place,
My escape.