LAND OF DREAMS

Far away
in a land into mist,
faded out,
unreachable for those
ironbound,
kept away
for the lonely
silent souls

there,
where the ocean lies over
threatening hills
like a quilt made of water
softening their sharp skins,

there
in the heart of time,
is where, timeless,
we dream.

And we dream about islands
playing Robinson' roles,
looking after a Friday
just to share
checked shores,
glancing at silver mirrors
No-man's lands
Nemo's coasts

And we dream about landscapes,
black-white sands,
swallow nests,
and the high tide which kisses
our ankle here and there
redrawing paths of shadows
into a common new shape

There is where we are hidden
scaping from the edge
of our vanity bodies
at the Vanity Fair.

There we dream about passions
and we dream about Faith,
and Friends,
and Now,
and Never,
and Life,
and Love

and Death.