I am known as the son of the Earth. Whenever and wherever I set foot upon the ground, grass, flowers and foliage grow anew. I can make a dead tree bear fruit and make crystals and stones rise from the ground beneath my outstretched hand. Nature beckons to my unspoken call, for the blood of the Mother runs thick in my veins.
YOU ARE READING
The Journal of Dreams
RandomDreams. They're strange. They're bizarre. And most of all, they're anything and everything. A compilation of dreams over the years, interesting enough to share. Hope you enjoy.
