Join me won’t you,
aboard the direct flight to euphoria
and we’ll leave our troubles land ridden along with everyone bound by even the slightest of acrophobia.
caught in the clouds and riding the storm.
Exhilarating, isn’t it?
We’ll be carried briskly into the wind, the edge of the sky within a fingers reach.
The way we’ll fly, brushing against the grain of the atmosphere,
will welcome sizable inhalations of revitalizing air.
Greeted by varying forms of nature, we’ll sweep over the peaks of Everest,
dusted with the frozen tears of the grey nimbus
heavy from the stress of the unknown toxins leaked into its body;
witnessing scenes available only in dreams and artists akin to Uranus himself.
Reaching heights of absurdity, we’ll shake the hands of Ray, born from the sun;
a generous sort, always sparkling with a shine worthy of a million smiles.
Carousing with the wild flowers, the petals of the orchids
will whip around to the songs of Robin, her voice collaborating innately with the flap of her wings.
Drunk on mirth, the invitation to dive into the limitless stretch of blue sea will be accepted
not with a nod, but a cheerful plunge from Sequoia’s sturdy arms;
The expected splash replaced with a gulp where we’ll find ourselves in the belly of Nessy.
Surely intoxicated to the point of delirium, we’ll feast on sashimi fashioned from our finned friends who found themselves also mistakenly digested.
Freed by a gurgling belch from our mythological ally, we’ll exit doubled over in a silent laughter,
bubbles of our breath floating above our heads in a parade of life.
We’ll make our way to the surface, hitchhiking a ride through the current with a crowd unafraid of stepping out of their shells, and greet the sandy shores with open arms.
Eyes closed, a satisfying fatigue will spread through us like rumor.
Our bodies will be effortlessly lifted back into the care of the sky
where we’ll whisper our goodbyes and float back into the muted lifestyle of our realities.
Join me won’t you,