My dream is a house
That hovers mysteriously
And hums while a magic carpet flies by.
My door opens from the east
And I can stand and look outside
And watch the world,
So busy and creepy.
It hustles and bustles for this and that,
Runs to and fro and traverses land masses
For things that really don't matter that much.

And as the world hurries,
I stand in my dream,
Perfectly still and slowly blink
And breathe and am
And continue to hover
As a few monks are left
To conjure me.
They chant their song,
A beautiful ommmmmmmmm,
And my heart dances,
But never my feet.

-jenn