Oneironaut

Fog seeps in between the raindrops and settles upon the bricks.

There are voices within the mist, yet they whisper with pale lips.

The birds try to translate the murmurs, singing songs about gravity.

Yet the crows' time has murdered love, haunting our spirituality.

Awaken your lucidity as your mind slowly drips into a dream.

Enhance perceptivity until your invisibility boils into steam.

Succumb to the impossibilities of the astral shadowland.

Resist not the altered realities blooming from seedlings

planted in the palms of your astral body’s callow hands.

Explore depths consciousness fears to dive into, and you

will find yourself floating in a heightened dimension

of an untraveled universe flourishing within you.