The day I learned to dream

The creation string connecting me to my dreams is so thin I could see trough it better than through a window. But windows show the world outside unlike the unexpected material connecting you...to you.
I may not know how it comes to creation nor what meaning has what it shows. But thanks to its existence I know the feeling of flying through emptily full world. I have seen purple trees and felt like it belongs. Because it does. It all belongs to the world where there's just me, myself and I.

My attempt on poetry that takes creation in my dreams, every day life or comes out of nowhere.
Probably won't make sense but does it really have to? (nope it does not)