The moonlight paints across the lake
a golden path which dreamers take.
When sleep has set their spirit free
to visit realms of fantasy.
There hybrid monsters multiply
and birds can swim and fish can fly.
Large silver dragons sell ice cream
from motor bikes powered by steam.
Imagination knows no boundaries.
You can converse with passing trees
all students of theology.
Who claim divine authority.
The sleeping mind so easily
accepting unconditionally.
Things that the conscious mind would be
Examining more critically.
I wonder if I dared to take
that golden path while wide awake
Would I lose my identity
becoming just a fantasy?
24-Feb-08
Imagination knows no boundaries. You can converse with passing trees Rachel Ann Butler
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Personally I think you were just on that path, and nothing happened except your wrote a poem that was wonderfully written and very much fun and full of play. enjoyed greatly michael