Through rarified puffs of air I move
Afloat, adrift on a cotton sea
But where I am, I am not certain,
And looking I cannot see..

I shield my eyes against the dazzling light that does not pierce
Its" muted elegance enfolds and soothes away my fear.
A cocoon of warmth, of solace, sun-less light behind azure blue
The diamond studded sky does dazzle but still I slowly float on through

The song of birds crowd high in canopy'ed trees
Their wingless bodies fluttering in a cacophony,
In dissonance against the floating breeze
The branches sway in rhythm, and the wind, in silence, ruffles the leaves.

The grasses move, and like a single living thing wrap around bare toes,
But all is silent, the singing, the wind, the swaying is
The counterpoint, to the hush of angel whisper voices.

Where is this land, this place that can"t be found, nor remembered?
Where have I traveled, where can I be?

The landscape shimmers,
the ground itself moves like a breathing single living thing
breathing in and out.

In and out, breathing, living, sighing, grace and hope.

My bare toes, move in and out in and out, but
There is no purchase, nothing yields against my feet or toes..

Where is this place, where birds sing in counterpoint
To the hush of angel whisper voices?

Far in the distance, I gaze, but there is no horizon.
Only a shimmering, a giant blue and green, red, and yellow
The Aurora Borealis, as solid, as unbending as a wall
All around me, encircling wider and wider.

I see three men, they laugh, they talk, they walk to me.
"My dear", he says, his eyes a sparkle,
the huge mustache, the ends curling off into infinity move wide with his smile.

"Oh," I say, "where have you been?"
I try to remember,
what was it? What do I know?
The memory alludes like a hint of fragrance a scrap of memory borne on the breeze,
I cannot grasp cannot remember.

What seems wrong, but seems not.
He looks so well, so young, and filled with vigor and sass,
just like before...
But before what?
They talk, the three men, a lovely melody,
A counterpoint to the hush of angel whisper voices.

What seems wrong, but seems not?

They have come to meet me. Where? I do not know?
A niggling, a stirring,

what seems wrong, but seems not?

"Why are you well?" I ask.
"What have the doctors given you?"
A niggling, a stirring, what seems wrong, but...
"Doctors? I need no doctors here, he laughs."
My brothers, my cousin, all look, they smile,
they know this secret, this secret to this place.
But, I do not.
"And where is here?" I ask.
"And can"t you guess?" he says, his eyes all a twinkle.
His mustache moves with his widening smile.
The curly-cues twine in corkscrew ribbons over and under. Over and under
Moving out into the shimmering Aurora Borealis, the cloudless diamond studded sky.

A light within him grows until he is like the sky, the dazzling white, shimmering sky.
He slowly fades and becomes the light, the light around and under and over.
The trees blend into clouds, the birds stop their fluttering.
Their song fades slowly
I scrunch my toes to feel the ground, the grass that is not there.
There is cotton cloth against my legs, a heavy blanket covers me.

I awaken.