I close my eyes...

I fly over mountains and seas… but am still here, in my own little room. I close my eyes and dream of black-winged angels and flying horses. I see myself differently. I see everything differently. I think and think and then drift into a sleep; softly slipping into dreams and fantasies… all all mine. My hair flutters in the wind, I can feel it on my face, on my lids, on my lips, I can taste it; and it pushes on the tips of my fingers, sweet cool wind. It hugs me, engulfs me… gives me a taste of paradise. Mountains. Green and red mountains. A ground gold and blue. Sparkling waters and rivers. Golden and silver trees. The sky. Oh! The black blue sky; winged angels, shooting stars in broad daylight, the sun and the moon, and the heavenly white clouds. It’s all mine. It’s all mine. I close my eyes and I see it. I see all my dreams come true. I close the door to my room, and turn out the lights of outside. Every time I close my eyes; the darkness brings me hope. I see it all; my paradise. Dragons. Unicors. Creatures of old. Magic beyond any fantasy. Fairies and Pirates; like Neverland’s. I close my eyes and I walk a path, and it’s misty, mysterious but not cold. I tread on land; ancient, and darkened by wisdom. The air is perfumed; it smells of adventures; like stories of children that put you to sleep. The voice of a mother, a grandmother, a sister telling you about the hero and the monster. You feel both… and you walk the path. You see your own legend; and you make it. And it’s all all mine. The Forest and the paradise. The misty path and the red mountains. The wizard and the angel. The earth and the stars. And I close my eyes and I hear bells, and music and calls in the distance. I close my eyes and I hear my own adventure told and retold. I close my eyes and I become the child who is trapped in my mind. And I close my eyes and become a winged angel. I close my eyes…

PAKINAM AMER
August 3, 2006