In moments of deep thought I become the gold of my
dreams. I leap off the summit of waves and swim
through snow. I laugh at the heavens. I soothe
the acheing storm and hurl the softest feather like a spear.
I stand among the glade of trees and build skyscrapers
from the leaves on a sun-dappled tree. I sing,
and the wind shouts in dance. I wave my arms
and a chorus of ten thousand angels rumble.
My dreams are a scarlet quill, and my life leads the flight.
My blood is the echo of my speech, and beneath my
soul, I dream.