The Meadow

The Meadow

The feeling is I’m a dumpster siting alone,
taking on the trash you decide needs to be thrown.
Trash fills me up, I begin to choke.
My color turns red, I blow off smoke,
and just before I lose control…

I drift away to the meadow.
Lie among the flowers.
Admire the rainbow that arches over me.
Play with the rabbits.
Blow out smoke, mellow out.
Float up towards the clouds in ecstasy.

I walk happily through the meadow
basking in the sunshine.
Skip over the rainbow.
Find hidden treasure at the end of the journey.
Set fire to grass, pamper the grass.
Float up towards the clouds relaxed and chilled.
When storm clouds damper the mood
and rain ruins the green,
turning it to gray,
my color turns red, I blow off smoke,
and just before I lose control…

I escape to the meadow.
Block out the aching strain of the day.
Float calmly down the stream.
Eat the wild berries.
Soak up my sweat with the dark green leaves.
Float up towards the clouds never wanting to come back down.

I enjoy the comfort of the meadow.
It provides all that I require
to call it my home.
I never have to worry,
Or risk losing composure.
I just float up to the clouds
and hover high in the sky.