The door has opened, admitting me to a world where I hold the truth, gift-wrapped and tagged, waiting for me to look upon it. A sweet wind plays around me, childlike in enjoyment, toying with my clothes and hair as easily as with the swaying fields of summer and the thought born flowers that bloom with the contentment of a happy heart.
Dancing, playing faeries weave their trails of powdered dreams across the perfect blue sky, laughing at those of us who are anchored to the ground. I could lose myself in their wings alone, rainbows of promise, peace and wisdom that can only be contained in the perfection of pure color. For now I set the packaged truth aside, well content with my little world of unbound joy and magic.
Somehow I know that if I were to open that gift, it would be as heartbreakingly empty for me as the shell of an insincere apology. |
