by Michael Plante

I dream of a place where angels rest their wings.
A place where stars fall from above
landing upon the hands of grace.
Each star wished upon and blown back to the heavens
twinkling in the night sky
as dreamers rest in silent slumber.

I dream of a time where colors exist in harmony.
Fields of crayons await the hands of children
rainbows would lead the way across the heavens.
Where laughing ponies charge imagination
leading us all to color our hearts
like the children we are.

I dream of a world where love can breathe
bringing to bloom all colors of the light.
Where sleepy children can rest their soul
and dream of chasing falling stars.
Where the hands of creation can finally rest
and angels come home with empty pockets.

Title of Image: Unknown
Description of Image: “A badly drawn toddler’s crayon drawing of a field of California golden poppies, simple shapes, bad drawing, primitive“
Source: MusesAI.io