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High.


'There is a high in presence.

One, unmatched by a glass of wine or sip of Whiskey.

A sweet humbling, effortless high in silence.


Gazing up at light poking through the trees.

Peering down at muddy boots, adventuring through fields unseen.


There is a high when you stop and look, when you hear a rustle in the bushes.

When you wave your arms like a bird in shadows.


I feel the same high when I hold my palm to my favourite tree and breathe.

Lean and witness the view of rolling nothingness that the tree has absorbed for hundreds of years.


I seek this high when the world becomes too grand, too scary.


I take my hit when I need to return to ground.

When this mind becomes too complicated, when my thoughts betray me.


Cracking fingertips will not hold on to this dark and messy view of a life.


My high in a sanctuary of choice and honest behaviour.

Raising vibrations through a powerful voice of only love, can this high be obtained and remain.


In magic we notice a life worth living.

Being apart of a simpler plan designed for you.

Divulged by only you.

In grace we stand, smiling, forever high.'



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