Sylva Fae

Sylva Dreams

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Taking flight on the breeze with the buzzard, I spread my wings and soar high above the treetops. Gliding effortlessly on the currents, my eyes keen surveying all in my world. Suddenly I swoop through the canopy speeding to my prey, focused I dive…

I am the prey, running for my life whipping through the undergrowth, darting, weaving, bounding, heart pounding I reach the safety of the rich brown earth. And breathe…

I am new life pushing up through the soil, a tiny fern tentatively reaching for the sliver of sunlight above. I bask in warm rays and slowly unfurl my tiny fronds following the light, I stretch…

I am the bee flitting from flower to flower. I dance with the dandelions, my wings whirring, as I alight on a clover heavy with sweet nectar. I stop and drink my fill…

I am the child lazing in the clover patch, sleepily staring at the drifting clouds. My eye catches the colourful flutter of a butterfly. I jump up carefree, giggling and give chase. Running barefoot through the meadow my hair a golden mane flowing, I follow it back to the cool shade of the wood…

I am the old oak standing proud at the edge of my wood. I feel the wisdom of three hundred years flowing through my core. My roots stretch far, energy flowing, connecting all life from the meadow to the woodland’s heart…

I am the fire burning bright, consuming all within my grasp. My flickering flames dance gaily and free flitting from twig to twig. I unfurl my smoky tendrils spiralling upwards reaching for the sky. I dart and weave through branches to the dark of night, soaring on the currents to the stars above, slowly dissipating, drifting… back to the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Original artwork by Christine Southworth @bearprintstudio

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