In my dreams, I soar, like NASA-crafted
paper airplanes in the midst of bouldering
asteroids and starry skies.
Where my thoughts take flight on the wings of angels,
reaching impossible heights inside my drowsing head.
In my dreams, memories, and nightly thoughts
are luminance lanterns softly aglow,
guiding us where our hearts ache to go.
My dreams behave like a puzzle, pieces scattered and confusing,
a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors, hypnotizing in their chaos.
In my dreams, I swim,
plunging into unfathomably deep oceans,
where the singing of distant mermaids
echoes in my ears.
Unbeknownst to me,
Underneath the crashing waves,
a world sits undiscovered,
where curled seashells whisper callings
for me to return home.
My dreams are not a blank canvas,
but instead are painted bright and beautiful to my eyes,
with complicated brushes of day and splotches of night.
My dreams are a symphony,
each note is the perfect tune, blending together
to mold into a masterpiece beneath the crystal moon.
In my dreams, I discover what my heart desires most.
Fantasies I only imagined come alive before me.
Like a story, they should be told.
In my pearl-incrested book of dreams, my life unfolds.
But even I don't know what my dreams have in store for me,
or where I'll travel next.
