We walk towards the promised land.
The purple grass breathes and greets us beneath our sandals
In a calculated melody.
Fiery steeples glow in the distance.
The sky is red and slightly hazy.
A steady, high voltage flows throughout our cells,
Under the crimson sun.
We are the creators, the cultivators,
And the cult leaders.
Our hands link to shape a transcendental bond.
I am her and she is me.
Her hair glistens and yields beautiful, emerald flora
Which blinks rhythmically.
My limits of comprehension are expanded
Two hundred sunflowers sprout in our trail.
Drops of condensation gather on my fingertips
And fall to the soil.
Impossible turquoise stone foundations
Reflect the blood sun’s rays.
Galaxies collapse in our view as we walk.
The feeling of pain is not in the code
And that doesn’t need to be experienced.
We know only love, groove, and bliss.
Our atoms fuse in a cosmic phenomenon.
The vivid habitat rejoices.