When I dreamed of climates
that were warmer
on the horizon of Truth and Myth
I was above it all
as in a plane
perusing the landscape of time and space
comfortable in my corridor through the clouds

I slept on pillows sometimes
with my head against the window
not looking out
but feeling the flush of speed
and floating
I was sailing
free
detached

Here on the ground
I can feel the earth spin
revolving in slow-motion
like a ballerina on point
I can feel the exquisite precision
in a delicate dance

The movement is sweeping
when the stars are footlights
and the chorus of the galaxy
puts Beethoven to sleep at night


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