Author Description

Let us go to the meadow, where the dry grass rustles and the leaves in distant trees dance amid the breeze. Let us go to where the earth stretches far and wide and roaming, where our thoughts can scatter likewise, detangling from all that was once caged in. Let us go to the unhemmed and unmanicured imperfection of the vast grasslands, feeling amongst it the very epitome of pure perfection. –Here, where the meadowlarks swoop and sing, stopping to perch just beyond the tranquil pond’s edge; their yellow underpants of feathers all alight in the bright, shining sun- as you. There is no shade, here in the meadow, just sun on skin. Just warmth seeping past marrow to warm up spirit. Here, there is space and breadth and time for thoughts and reflection. They steal across the plains on wings of freedom. Freedom to fly and run and chase the wind- laughing, crying, releasing. Here in the meadow, where a soul is quieted and contented. Its pervading calm permeates your being and perks your ears to the sound of its song… The Melodies of the Meadow.