I watch the clouds and I sail across an ocean of blue sky on the
wings of a breeze.
I soar and lose myself amidst the secret places that hide within
the tumbled landscapes of the drifting clouds.
I slip into a misty vale, it becomes my sanctum, and through the
mist I watch the world roll by below me.
Here I can cast my net into the swirlling clouds and draw in any
illusion that suits my whim.
I can exist in any age and lose myself in the reality of another
era.
I can walk among the stars and see the imagined wonders that exist
in the distant reaches of unknown galaxies.
Delighting in my reverie I can travel anywhere within the far-flung
stretches of my imagination.
Illusion is my companion and fantasy is our conveyance.
Or I can choose to empty my mind of all thought, retreat into the
inner space of my being.
There I can find the placidity, the state of tranquility, that only
exists when I have peace within myself.
I luxuriate in my solitude, bask in the comfort of the peace that
surrounds me like a cacoon.
Sinking into the depths of my psyche my mind drifts into
nothingness.
Adventure or seclusion, no matter which course I set, I bound into
the experience I choose until reality once again begins to lap
at the fringes of my consciouness.
Then, against my will, as my moment of reverie escapes me, I slip
into my existence and wait until I can watch the clouds once
more.
