Gone with the wind,
Like dreams you will never remember,
Like ocean waves as they descend,
Like warm air withdrawals in December.
Where do the dreams go?
Do they wash away like the ocean waves?
Or maybe they descend where the warm air blows?
Or possibly they do not ever stray.
What lies beyond what we think we’ve seen?
Maybe more than the average can feel,
Perhaps beautiful things and beautiful beings,
Perhaps what society knows to be surreal?
Do not ever doubt what you tend to doubt,
You never know, it may be true,
Whatever it may be about,
Give it a thought, as with most things you do.
Stop “sleeping” and open your eyes,
Many treasures will be revealed,
You will be in for a great surprise,
A paragon may become unsealed.
Gone with the wind is no small occurrence,
It all remains deep in our conscious,
All held there for reassurance,
Whatever it may be, only you can make sense of it.