Roses

Relaxed stretched out in a pew, eyes looking down vividly white. Seen probably. Eyes close off on on off maybe. Sleeping possibly awake more than likely dreaming perfectly. Rhythmic lullaby sweeping to places of foreseen lulling darkness depths lightness of mind, searching the colours. Her face, its all here. The red. Petals, raining from a clear sky wading nakedly into cold blue green aqua water. All here. All found never lost. The roses why the roses the woman the water, why the roses. All answerable questions responses mistakenly found. She is gentle her skin her hair her eyes softness environs her. The melody created her in the mind of one in the mind of another she was born brought to life by the bells. When it ends she is still created nevertheless alive in the one mind only a thought in the other only a memory once reminded of brought to life by the one. The one who will create her.

Tranquil. The chiming of music.