There's a dream I have, not every night but often. I am returning from—somewhere. I know from where but I seem to not be thinking about it. I am intent but in free form. I am making my way back home. Yet, I have come from home. I quickly go past one vibrant but ethereal configuration of form and occurrence; then, another and another and then I am close to—here. I begin to accelerate and within a few moments I am open-eyed. Is this really my spirit in motion? Is this the way of things? Some part of me goes to sleep—so that I may awaken?
Written Content G.A.M. cc
The Secret Passage Apricotbrandy
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Shots Of Silver™ 2012