To reach into the dark realms
And pull out the eternal wisdom
To step into the memories
Of the ancient builders of time

To read the hearts of passersby
And touch them with a kiss
To feel the colors and light
Harnessing and focusing bliss

To fly amongst the soaring hawks
And see all they can see
To sing the song of morning blooms
Tasting scents of perfect glee

These things, implausible, impossible, yes
And yet, it’s what I do
Harnessing the mystical dreams
Remembered by the ancient few