Sounds of cities, mountains and streams
All drowned out by secret dreams
In a wood far away
Where my mind goes to play
Brightness creeps through gaps in the leaves
As thoughts come and go as they please
Cleansing themselves in the moon light
Preparing for their next bumpy flight
Into the unknown of my imagination
Hoping to spark a new creation
Which I may write down out of the blue
So if you're reading this perhaps it's true.