The trees they fold me in
A disastrous quiver of excitement.
I am overtaken.
Deeper and deeper till there is no more
I am but the earth
a child of the moon and lore.
To believe is to have, to have is to believe
Those who don’t believe are left in want.
Tangles realities finding happiness to weave.
It is but a dream this reality
The truth is in your mind
Just hidden away waiting for you to find.
It longs to be free it longs to fly
Leave it for too long it will die.
Life is your work of art every moment your carving tool
How will you use it?
Smashing it and fixing the pieces?
Living brightly and happily inching your way through masterpieces?