Under the Willow tree as the sun goes to sleep.
Laying in the grass,
I too, am about to count sheep.
Not sure how I got here,
But not questioning it either.
In peace, I am finally a believer.
The songs of birds dwindle down to only crickets.
Stars slowly awake,
There's a dream I now take.
Drifting through the clouds,
the sun far off.
I feel so light, that id fall if I cough.
Clouds twist into things I love,
But sadly there are no people up above.
So I gently decsend,
Back to my still body.
Awoken by a sound.
A white wolf emerges from the bushes.
He takes me by the soul,
And guides me around.
Home is where the journey ends,
And I stand in confusion.
The wolf disapears,
It was all an illusion.
©g.a.p
G