Bubble

The white in the bubble is the refreshing soap in the sink a violin makes the purple sound of the shining glass that dissappears when I want to touch it It appears to be a state of the mind but it''s the song of the heart when bubbles are flying everywhere potentials are dancing around the heads of people every step they make is filled with air that carry' their weight featherlight is the human that plays a game and heavy is the human that pretends to be human sitting in the mud, feathers only stick on their body''s on the market they will trow stones at the ones that remains sticky It's the white in the bubble that tells a story now, that wants to tell about the lemonscent the refreshing shower and the drops of water on a old hand a grandma becomes a child so young, Of the mud on your face we make a vase of clay where we put flowers in. The rabbit on my bed nodds yes, and invites you to come sleep in the fresh warm bed. Their you can fly and play together in realms that you can make up together. The homeland of the bubble, the castle of the princess, and the woods where stuffed animals are alive, the cloud where butterflies are born, in a minute around the world. It starts with a wish, a thought, something that reminds you of the times we where it all. Pretend to be a tree, and your wings will grow. Like the peacock you have feathers in rainbowcolors. The bubble of shining crystal around your neck, to remind you of the wish inside your heart. Wishes are dreams, and dreams are there to be lived, its a ticket straight to home. It''s here and it''s now. Welcome home.

All channels, articles, audio and art are Coprighted by New Children. If you want to share something with others please link to this site and mention the writer.

New Children is a project of the Passiebloem The interdimensional creative platform.