as the swan dreams,
of wings in silver capes,
flying in beautiful serenity,
breaking and chipping through windows not fathomed
nor figured out when insides its mazes.
sweeping over blood red forests and glass rivers
and hugging the crisp breaths from below.
as curious eyes from the ground watch above
hello falls,
kissing them sweetly.
And the wind whistles out                                                         the calls of nature within and the world around.                        Now once in time,                                                               opening its shields to a realization of truth,                               that such dream wasn’t a truth,                                                 but a vivid reality.