My name looks like a meadow on top of a hill of perpetual flowers and trees that lives beneath an ongoing show of ever changing colors and shifting clouds. It is articulate beauty as long as it is allowed and will blind you with it's sun so that you may never see the scorched earth beneath the grass.
My name sounds like lost music calling you to dream of unimaginable things, yet also sounds eerie and full of half answers and unsureness. It sounds of a place many have heard of but few have seen. I watch as I begin to speak but then close my mouth and only say half of what I wanted to to spare the ears of those around me.
My name feels like soft grass. At times I can feel the shards of glass beneath me but the warmth of the day will make me forget and a cool breeze will bring me back to the moment before me. I touch damp earth to remind myself that I will not fall at any moment.
