Soft clouds caress me
Their damp haze obscures my vision
But I pass through their realms
Without significant collision.

A river, like a ribbon of blue
Ambles its way across the plain
The land a blurred colour-mix
Of indistinct terrain.

A skein of geese honk at me
In evidenced surprise
As though this apparition
Deceives their very eyes.

Now I make out roads and trees
Odd signs of habitation
And the freedom I feel induces
A quite peculiar elation.

The cattle and the sheep a-graze
But still they look like toys
Abandoned at the call to tea
By uncaring girls and boys.

In an instant, I am at one with all
Completeness I have found.
I see each blade of grass, so clear
And... at last.... I touch the......

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Sarapin, in the year 405 AF.