PsychoArtist2

There is a pale moon on the rise. The whisps of couds left behind by the recent storm float clear of the large, glowing orb in the sky. A gentle breeze caresses the Earth's surface, tall grasses and fragrant wildflowers swaying. They make soft music, whirring as they brush against another, dancing in sync. The air is damp and cool against my skin, and goosebumps form as hair stands on end. I can't help the calm blanket that envelops my mind. The storm has passed, only a distant and quickly fading memory. Soft shadows are cast upon the ground, as I stride through the grass. They return the touch with wet hand shakes, sighing hello as my legs p