I slept and dreamt that night.
I was walking up the soft silky grass
The warm wind was pushing me up higher and higher the hill
The stars were swirling within each other, exploding with life and magic
There he stood, my dear lost Vincent Van Gogh
With all his sorrow and beauty, I can never get enough of his mind.
"It's simply beautiful," the wind carried his gentle words to me to hear.
He smiled, he was truly free
"When I died I said 'the sadness will never leave.' How mistaken I was. The sadness lead me home."
I was happy for Vincent, he deserved so much more.
I'm selfish, if he didn't feel the sorrow and despair he wouldn't have left pieces of himself for me to feel.
I heard music softly play, my soul was dancing. My soul knew.
Debussy, setting under the Blue Jacaranda tree. The lively notes dancing with the leafs.
He smiled softly, continued to play his soul for me to feel at ease.
"He is something else."
I looked up at the tree and there sat Edgar Allan Poe.
I laughed, "Poe, have you found what you were looking for all along?"
He gracefully flew to me, tenderly landing his feet on the silky grass.
"I have. Dear, you should see death. She is beauty itself. "
You'll find home too, they said to me.
You'll be free one day my dear.
Live in all your glory and misery, we'll find each other once more.
The black raven as dark as night lead me back home, the raven told me not to worry.
I'll see him one day too, and I too will be free.
Our souls will find our way through this thick foggy world.