Sometimes I walk in the shadows between dreams and waking,
letting the light of my imagination
burst forth from the grey nothing,
into fireworks of vivid ruby and emerald.
I am endlessly amazed by the power of the unbound mind,
where freedom and creation dance a fiery seduction,
forever one step ahead of where dull logic can reach.
Reality has no place in this world we create for ourselves.
Let us play in the realm of magic,
Let our minds run free through the inky night,
A sleek dragon covering unknown soil, dust shimmering under indigo sky,
chasing the smeared red promise of a horizon.
The future is ours to breathe into life.
Let us forget all we have been taught,
Throw sense and reason to the purging wind,
and recall to memory what we have known from birth,
the long forgotten secrets of the earth,
so easily supressed by the tedium of existence.
Imagination is a seedling, full of life’s exquisite promise,
that cannot grow bigger than the pot that embraces it.
Life should not be contained by societies boundaries,
as dreams refuse to be.
The indifferent ranks, so grim in black and white,
beckon with melancholy fingers towards their drab procession.
They march ever onwards towards their dreary tombs,
Caring not for the enchantment that lies beyond their grey lives.
I do not follow them.
I dream in colour.
Originally published here on Elephant Journal