In my head there is a landscape I paint with words. Close your eyes and follow me into the woods where a trickling stream becomes a babbling brook with bubbles and pebbles swirling and twirling with eddies and currents until it runs into a large, roaring, raging river and the rushing water falls over the edge of a cliff foaming and spraying. There are tall trees, on which the leaves, lush and verdant, rustle in the breeze. In the tallest tree, is a platform on which you can stand and looking down view the canopy like a gentle green sea. At dawn the sky is filled with flying colours passing through wispy white clouds and a rainbow that rises leading to a pot of gold riches at the end. There's a cottage with a room and in that room a bed. Sunlight streams through the window bright, pale and yellow and outside the window in a field of flowers stands a lone clock tower. I sit atop that tower with the wind in my face birdsong in my ears lilting and lyrical and look with appreciation on my creation. In the outside world a picture paints a thousand words But in my head a thousand words paint an enchanting picture.
© Christine Ooi 2020