Mountain Carpets
Flying up high higher than the silken clouds,
the sky up over the hills and bustling crowds,
I come to see the mountain carpets,
the plush green mountains waiting for the sunsets.
I look down while fantasies roam through my mind
and the sounds of the bells of the angels chime.
The mountain carpets are plush and green
to catch me when I fall in my quixotic dream.
The pine trees down below are as soft as silk
and sweet as the taste of our mothers’ milk.
So when I land I’ll be surrounded in luxury
and for when I leave I shan’t be in a hurry.
Mother Nature’s beauty is the world of the sublime
as I unfasten the clouds and witness the divine.
I see the earth and sky in the Creator’s eyes
and feel the warmth of his calming sighs.
Oh lucky me with my dream so soothing
when I see the clouds drifting and moving
from my window seat in my flying iron bird
flying above the carpets where the real is just a blur.
And when I set down, the bird became a plane
and my dream fell out of my quixotic brain.
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