“just a small dream”
“It was childish to think…”
I thought

The cold stole my breath
And froze each digit

“It was childish to think…”

My body slunk into white
As the thought raced through

“It was childish to think…”

“that”

“I”

“could”

“fly”

Mist today is effervescent
It lurks during the morn
This marks the end of renewal
And slowly tucks green to sleep

The Mist softly heralds in
A painted landscape
And the smell of falling blades

The straw now bowed
To the slight sent of cold
As the Mist clambers up and down
To bed in the deepest valleys

Finally blanketing
And settling on the landscape

This is to you
The one who
Ran through the wood
Passing by apples
Through the grove
To the left
Thats where you always
Found me
It was a game you see
We played among the trees
Just the two of us

You’d follow me and I you
A complete bond
That only some experience
You my silent friend

You jumped through life’s hoops
Yes you suffered the hardships
But you stood loyal
As no other friend
You leaped through them all

There was one hoop
I never jumped
It aches my heart
The feeling rips my chest

It was goodbye
I wish I stayed
And helped you jump through
This is why I write to you

Now run! Faster!
Dash through the wood
Pass the restraints of the trunks
To open space
Were the smell of sweet grass  
Fills your soul
Run, run I say
Go with such speed
Feel the freedom
Stretch your limbs
Let them feel light

But don’t look back my dear friend
Flee from his hand
Flee from that life
I was powerless to stop
Run! Run!
But don’t look back
Wait for me
on the other side of the field
I will meet you there
And we will play again
You will find me
In our place

Wait for me

This is to you
And now I say
Goodbye

I can finally jump through
Wait for me my friend
My dear, dear friend

deep within the depths
of an unbound spell
sits a boy in a bed of grass
endless blue fills above
and the wind carries a soft touch
suddenly black covers
pulling the curtain over the set
surrounding the urchin with


silence


black


a voice bounded through
it was a strange tone:

italicI am of the unseen
tangible I am not
we are you
you are we
we are what could be
we are what shouldn’t be

there are thousands of me
you... but one
one should be wise
though your choice
could be your demise
you will choose italic

growing faint
the darkness lifted
here I found

myself

in a field

She is the pedal
they come to gaze upon
her slow dance
where she will meet the ground
the music starts this custom
filling the air with a hypnotic trance
she begins her decent
bending and twisting
the wind her choreographer
she beautifully floats
not one scuff of her feet
she has honed this skill
the stage is set
with a glow of orange lanterns
and perfect wood detail
frames her exquisite shape
as she gets closer
the instruments grow faint
in slow time lapse motion
the pedal has reached the ground

humble and mighty
a bear leaves behind a trail
the white cloaks its end

Each of us a stream
Flowing over today's trials
Each new splash trains us