To love a hippie is to take a walk into a soul’s garden and stop to smell the flowers.
It’s early morning sunshine stretching across a bed tangled with “I love you’s” and the soft gasps of dreams.
To love a hippie is to escape from the mundane into a world that is magical—seeing the joy in the moon rising above the distant sea and the beauty of lips pressed against fresh daisies.
It’s music that lifts and dips, this way and that, moving to a beat all its own. It’s bare feet and long hair tangled in your sleep, and it’s the smile you just can’t forget.
To love a hippie is to hold hands with nature while kissing the stars.
It’s moonbeams and rainbows—and just a little bit of thunder.