At peace.

Water, gentle trickling into a pond.

Silence.

Faintly listening to noises outside,

outside my world.

Within it,

all is calm.

There is nothing.

n o t h i n g,

a lake,

a river,

still,

silent,

like the giant silken sheets of a greater picture,

gentle ripples spreading outwards,

two thrushes darting to and fro,

the willow tree,

gently swaying to touch the river,

caressing and soft,

the wind darts through the grass,

flirtatiously,

coyly,

tickling the blades.

dust tickles my nose,

I look up,

the grey skyline ever ready to greet me,

tearing me from my world,

a rag lies near me.

slowly,

surely,

carefully,

almost hestitating,

the painting disappears,

and a tear lands on the empty canvas.

--By Yue Lin, 'Unreal'.

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