In the realm of thoughts
my mind rises into sky,
gliding through soft clouds.
Below, the wide earth unfolds—
quiet beauty far beneath.

Wings fold toward the ground,
skimming lakes with gentle sound.
Serene I arrive—
holding the thrill of the flight,
yet to be dreamed once again.

By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)

The mind takes flight beyond the noise, drifting through quiet skies and soft reflection. In stillness, beauty unfolds below—leaving a calm that lingers, waiting to be dreamed again. I often dream of flying, when it happens I try to keep the flight going, I haven’t a clue what it means.