A Reoccurring Dream

I feel the leaves crunch beneath my bare feet
I brush my hands against the swaying fronds
I take in the sweet melody of the song birds

I raise my chin, and observe the trees
Caressing swiftly in the breeze

The spectrum of colors
Dance before my eyes
For a moment
I try to decide if this place is real

I only think about it briefly
My subconscious is more real than anything else to me
It knows what I want
What I desire

So if I am indeed imagining this place
I would like to stay here a bit longer





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