Beautiful Storm (May 23, 2008)
A dream on a plane. Your hands. Your nails were brittle. I held them in mine. We had the same hands. Others sat around you. You hugged a man in black clothes. The plane was large and we flew over [a rural area]. I walked to a window and looked out. I saw the mountains in snow and mist peak over beautiful lush green forest and my breath was taken. I cried at the beauty. I tried to tell you, but you were gone. Whisked away. I wanted to show you, anyone, but as my friend came to the window, we were flying into thunderclouds. Storm. Darkness. Sadness.
Your hands, your lands…so beautiful.
