Imagination

There is a gate in the midst of A small garden, maybe a red or White. I went over and met a dwarf who Claimed its possession of the gate, This is my gate and area, what are You human in this sacred forest? What mushroom! What leaf! What another bird! Birds fly to the west and I am following, Jogging turns into a short run and my feet Find themselves on some white thing. Fluffy and wet, in truth! This is actually A cloud. Crystals climb on to me, from their silky nests And then I turn to walk north