In The Dimensions

We are travelling in the dimensions,
trespassing the horizons believed lost.

Roads divide, converge, end
but lights always design new patterns,
we swim across the walls, fly over the origin
before we are consumed back where we begin.

In search of the intersection, we cross
oceans, mirages, clouds and time,
and place markers to recover the paths, or not.

Mornings come with the longings of rain.

On the days we cannot fathom sunrays,
we make stars with crayon colours
and keep dreams in translucent jars with lids shut.

We are travelling in the dimensions,
struggling at the edges which erode rapidly.

We may have once come at the either side of the boundary
that separates the words from music
because when I sang, I heard no notes.
In summer we float to the bed of the rivers
and collect dried moss, silken stones, feathers
for no purpose, to think in randomness.

We are travelling without seam
in the dimensions that unwind in spiral threads
and many intersections, one where we may cross
at same time, with smiles.

Orchards are beautiful, but not like the forests
we are dreaming in wild.

We are travelling in the dimensions
that may merge in me and you.

There is a sunset we may create in the shades
of your eyes and my voice,
at the intersection where dreams may come to shapes
of your fingers and mine, together.