Meditation on the Wind Chimes
I hear the chimes on the air lazy in the wind, blowing like electrolytes to the ear. Notes from my stereo speakers play along with it low, like sound waterfalls crashing softly to the floor. A little peace in a world of chaos. This is the soul that nothing can touch, when in this state. Palo santo curls, dreams float on it's swirls, taking to the air where the chimes call for them to come play, as the day grows old, lets down her hair from its bun calling them home for the evening.