"I wounder what the world would be like from an aerial view.
Laying here on the grass,
On the rich soil,
The breeze carrying the rustic scent of the nearby
Eucalyptus trees.

Why don't we take a trip to the clouds,
I see a dragon there.
You know,
Making shapes with your mind out of the clouds.
It's only necessary,
Other than the usual grass rash.
Those are certainly a nuisance.
Or when you lose sight of your precious dragon.
Well...there goes our ride.

It's okay though!"
Pop up onto your feet.
Look forward.
Well, there really isn't much in front of you,
Besides clouds and other floating landscapes.
You live in the clouds, remember?

Carefully peering over the edge of the floating landmass you reside on,
You take a look down and imagine what it's like down there.
Lush canopies, vast meadows filled with raspberry reds
And vanilla yellows.
Dandelions rustling carefully,
As the wind carries them to their next destination.
Where they'll make use of their surroundings,
To flourish once more and carry on their subtle legacy.

"I want to be like a dandelion seed,
Flowing seamlessly through the air;
Carelessly carrying my legacy."
You think to yourself.

If only you had wings,
Then you could certainly pull it off.
Let the air carry you,
Caress you, delicately;
As if you were glass fighting gravity as you dropped towards...
Not inevitable shatter, oh dear no.
Simply to float unto the soil of the imaginary landmass at the bottom
Of the drop.

A dream drop.
Falling through the clouds,
Seemingly eternal, the drop I mean.
Then you notice you're falling,
And it feels weightless and beautiful.
You reach your hand out in front of you,
As if the orb of light before you was the size of a dove.

A dove.
Soft and smooth,
Their feathers may be.
Stroking slowly in an up and down motion,
Caressing every feather between your fingertips.
Feeling the gentle heartbeat and warmth of the bird,
Gazing at your with it's powerful green eyes.

"What am I doing?"
You think to yourself, in the midst of your fall.
You open your eyes once more to find yourself
On what seems to be a cloud.
Your hand outstretched, caressing something soft
Like a dove.

Only to find yourself holding a fairy,
Gleaming in iridescence.

Softly giggling to yourself,
You roll out of bed.
Taking one more glance
At your little teddy bear resting on the pillow beside where you were.

A pendant open,
Revealing this fairy.
She's certainly,
One of a kind.