Literature
The Last Meadow Before Heaven
“The Last Meadow Before Heaven”
Where the wild things bloom without fences,and the sky holds its breath in blue flame—this is where your soul wandered,quietly,gathering color from the earthlike a promise kept.
No path. No map. Just light.Just wind threading secrets through the tall grass.Just the sacred hush of something older than sorrow.
And you,with your camera held like prayer,reminded the world:Beauty never asks permission to exist.
By Kate