• Columbia Hillen

Waking up into the real dream

I lay in the grass with the pain of inner questions running through my mind, and my heart. And I wonder whether when we lie down for the imaginary  sleep, do we get to revisit the place once held our shape?

Do we get to smell life the way we did that day? And feel the wind through the blades of grass, and stare into the eyes of a faithful friend who cannot speak, but it's there for us?

Is this what everyone else calls a ghost: us, reliving some of the moments  - when we felt so vulnerable and fragile, that we could have easily be melted by the rain - before sinking into oblivion, before waking up into another dream?

What a terrible misunderstanding...


Recent Posts

See All

No part of this publication, text or photographs, may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the owner, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. If you are interested in publishing any content or photographs, please contact us.