Transitions

When I find myself in the near sleep state where dreams are the most vivid and the colors of the mind paint up the canvas of the closed eye into wonderful renditions of fantasy, my subconscious takes over and ornate tales are woven. There are times when my dreams display the visual representation of the mood that I am feeling - or in some cases what I would like to feel. Such as walking through a field of spring wheat near dusk when the colors are vibrant greens and the sky's blazing orange of the sunset offsets the deepest blues of the clouds that just seem to be high enough that I can't touch them. And as I walk towards the sunset the feelings of peace and harmony lift me slightly above the ground so that my pace becomes floating and I glide for the briefest of moments above my surroundings.

In that in some dreams I take off in flight lifting ever so gently in the sky to hover above the place where I once stood. Looking down at that spot as I rise into the low sky then pitching my vision forward towards the lakes and forest and mountains beyond. Never rising very high - just enough to flirt with the tree canopies, the glassy surfaces of the lake and the rocky outcroppings of snow capped mountains.

I feel as if I'm bathing in the joy of a freedom granted from all humanly limitations to encounter the world through a perspective that is impossible but in the mind's eye lives and breathes in its fully richness of possibility. With a tapestry of visual treats and crispness of clarity where all things reside in focus from the individual stalks of the wheat field to the tiny veins on the leaves of the trees to the clearest of water that I'm gliding over.

There is no wind or rain.

Nor hot or cold.

Just the warmth like a comfortable blanket on a perfect night. It is there that I find my place and I drift off into the blackness of comfort gained and happiness fulfilled. For sleep has come to take me home.