Walk …through
the desert until you find water…
An oasis of
all things you have dreamed of…
Climb the mountain
until you reach your horizon …
Higher and
higher…Until your feet hurt….
Your horizon
and the water are nothing but feelings
Perceptions.
Your own
private Idaho.
If you are asleep,
don’t let anyone wake you up.
You can
travel through time and place.
You can
still be part of the clear blue sky.
You can be
the snow gently falling in the valley.
You can still
be the dust from the stars that light up the night on your dream.
You can
still grow strong with the cypresses branches.
Your tears
are the flow of the river leading your way..
You still
can be the howling of the wolves on that mountain top.
That mountain
top from where you sit and witness yourself sailing away. And the horizon is
yours to dive into.
The golden
land….Beyond the veil of reality …
Where darkness
peacefully pierces your flesh like diamonds … needles trying to find the end of
tunnel in your skin.
And violins
play your loneliness away…
Can you
hear it?
Maybe if
you listen quietly, the sounds will take you to that distant oasis in the
desert …
Or maybe
you find that nothing of this is real…
Maybe that
oasis has long dried out…
Maybe you
can never reach the top of that mountain… or maybe you have never actually begun
to climb it…
Maybe all
the stars are gone. They all silently vanished while you were not looking.
Maybe all
the cypresses were burned.
And all the
pages you have written …all the words were just in vain…
Maybe you
find yourself no closer than you were before…
Maybe you
find that the golden land has turned into ashes...
And maybe
the wolves no longer howl at the fool moon …
