CRAZY 'BOUT YOUR MERCURY

The night sky is a MercurySkye. Deep, dark, mysterious, vast. Analytical me, I see doors to many spheres, opening, closing, parallel universes moving beside us, around us, through us. Reason comes to me, dressed in a long white cloak, an oaken walking staff in his hand. You are there, knowing it not, drifting in and out of my line of vision, smiling, taking pictures like memories. Filing them away, awash with the memory of always. Dawn walks in her cloak of misty fields, where the deer sleepily graze, moving from pasture to highland, as the sun burns off the wetness of mornings' dewy shadows. Where the Willow trees hang their heavy tresses of golden sunlight, where the sleepy brook winds its way across rocky places and down through meadows green with envying springtides, I can see that no one has spoiled the pictures and the dreams of the Emeral Isles. This is the residence where my thoughts wander the hallways of ancient castles, hoping for the heart to cast the resonance of Heaven's melodies across the moors.