illusions

It told me to imagine, for imagination is reality, is what is beautiful. This world, the reality of it is but an illusion, ere changing, ever dying. But imagination cannot die, it lives on in dreams, fantasies and as long as the mind is open...

"If you want to be with what you're magnetizing, you have to put yourself in the picture..." ('Illusions', R. Bach)

I closed my eyes, let the evening breeze mingled with the scene of green grass and a sun-beaten lake, wash over...

I imagine lying on the grass with my eyes closed. I imagine I am not alone, but in the warm embrace of another. A beautiful person, soft and warm hearted, caring and understanding, lying next to me. No complications, no conditions, no expectations. Just being, just being together and savoring the moment together, just savoring life together.

I imagine the grass field, a little damp from the morning dew, his body, skin to skin, next to me. I imagine our eyes are closed, but our hearts are open to one another. No secrets, no things unsaid, no feelings unclear.

I imagine the breeze blowing over our bodies, covering us in a gentle blanket of air. I imagine that we can lie together in that position, that we can always somehow find ourselves in a similar position under different circumstances, at different points in our shared lives, and never ever tire of one another.

That is my imagination.

And that is reality.