high above the clouds, whereabouts unknown
I do nothing but waste space, and
drinking my cosmic wine of time
smoke and mirrors
mirrors and smoke
reality isn't what it seems
All that we see or seem is
but a dream within a dream
It's a dizzying perception,
It's a strange manifestation
I like your little poem, moreover your image is simply great.
On the other hand I had a moment of flow reading your poem of the coup I share it with you :
"A dream in a dream.
So if life is a dream that is stuck in a multitude of other dreams,
the possibilities are endless to catch a glimpse of all the realities,
that can manifest themselves when we let ourselves go into the torrent of flow and use the tools that are at our disposal to make dreams come reality.
( Is this not the moment where we go back into an illusion?)"
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