Field of Daisies

Flowing, twirling, soaring. 

The fresh smell of the daisies fills me with warmth.

Leisurely, I prance through the petite flowers like a bug crawling up a stick, gently but delightfully. 

The blossom of the field full of daiseis brushes alongside my leg.

My soul feels joyous, my skin feels silk.

The whisper of my own breath feels light and airy. 

Yellow like the stars and white like an aged knitted blanket.

Clouds gleaming and fleecy, the sky’s pastel colours like the galaxy’s milky way. 

The daisies' roots go deep down into mother nature's crust

I sit down in the middle of the field, the washes of the wind blow past my tranquil, pale face.

Everything feels surreal. 

Everything feels flawless.