Dew-Tipped

Take my hand. . .

I'll whisk you away

To the depths of a forest

Shrouded by layers of cotton mist

Where shadows solidify and play

Sprawl yourself on a cushion of feather moss

And gaze upon the jade canopy

Humidity softly suppresses your lungs

Until you no longer need air to breathe

And give no life to live…

Take my hand. . .

I'll spring your bare soul through the felt sky

Tip-toe among the new-born stars

Listen to the gentle snores of the moon

Gravity's hand creeps up and seizes you

As you tumble through the endless night

Forces ripple at your spirit

As the wind screeches alarms in your ears

You glimpse the dappled specks on mushrooms

Growing more adjacent by the second

Yet you yell out Faster

Take my hand. . .

I'll swim you to the lost oceans

Let the cascades shower upon you

As you bathe within the Atlantean waters

The mint sensation engulfs your sense

Defeats all rational thoughts

iNow. . ./i

Dance upon dew-tipped butterfly wings

Giggle with the babbling brook

As droplets bind themselves within crevices of leaves

Rebind your body with the refreshed soul

Take my hand. . .

Will  you?