With One Water Drop Of Imagination

With One Water Drop Of Imagination

If I close my eyes.
I can almost go back there.
Carried by the gentle arms of a soft breeze trapped only in my mind.
But my skin prickles, as if to remind me.
Maybe not just in my mind.

Like the splash of one water drop, I spread out beyond the confines of my earthly me.
The watercolor painting that washed away.
The colors reforming in new ways, again and again.
And what they create is so beautiful, that I can not describe.

It is a place so beyond all boundaries, that it can no longer be called a place.
That is where I find me, and you, and all that ever was.
Here, there is no such thing as harmony or joy, because there is no such thing as their not.
Until deep below, I hear the echo that has been reverberating for nearly all of time.

My eyes flash open and all that had been, dissolves.
Except…
Sometimes, its almost like I caught in my hand before the opening closed.
The tail end of something I pulled in from some far corner of the universe, into my imagination.
There it waits, until, back in my earthly me, I see a glimpse of it again.
An abstract reminder, of something, maybe?

Here it is, what I found.
See it as it is.
Or, see it with one water drop of imagination.