A Different World - Intangible Reality

Some call it "escapism." A way of moving mentally from reality into a source of fulfillment. It's found in a place that holds the mind where it does not have to face the truth ... no matter how horrid it may be. The sad part of escapism is that one eventually has to return what our society deems as reality.

There is a fine line between reality and the worlds that give us give us peace even if that peace comes with a price. That thin line is perception and it follows no logic dictated by the masses. It is the ticket from reality into our own world. And that world is contained within our minds and is sculpted by our desires.

The world within our minds bears no name. We call it what we will, but we define it by its gifts. Gifts we ironically call sanity! Our sign hangs outside our perception as tatered, frayed symbol of the mind passing from man's reality into the Shangra La that we have created. A place that some never return from.

My world is not like yours. It is not like anyone's! Here it is quiet and only I hold the controls. The sky is blue. Clouds may be summoned! Fish jump ready to be caught and they move in variety and abundance.

It is my Camelot where the only dragons that exist have been slain. Danger is left behind nursing pain as if it were a wound with no scab. The air is light and fresh! The breezes blow and tease my about my brow. Warmth comes only at my beckoning and cold is left to chill the night air above my quilts delight.

There is no stumble waiting for a toe. I run as I chose and am as free as the wind that harvest my grain. Laughter comes from the voice of my maiden in the distance. She is free of bond and her spirit soars the eagle's path. Here I stand to wait the warmth of her kiss. The spark in her eyes is my identity and I save for her the security she desires. There is no path to stumble here!

My world is closed. It begs no crowd! Invitation is only given by the need and passes when will dictates. Time is captive with limitations. It owns no length for I am the one who gives it will. I choose to roam by minutes tide and only then, if per chance, I will it on to lengthen only by my necessity.

Colors swirl about the bluest sky as a mist of paint at fancy's whims. My hands are wide and strong! I bear no infirmity and stand as a knight who's armor is my breast! My flesh is firm. My eyes are true! The arrow's tip sails from bow to sky and stirs the colors about my head as a crown.

The maiden passes. Her heart is light and her smile shows in the glow of her face. All is peace. All is well!

Some people call it "escapism." I choose not to return!! The label scratches my neck. It reads, "Asylum." Words float in the wretched world of man! "Insanity! Catatonic!!" The door is closed, shut tight and sealed with haste!

A Peacock Bass broke the water's surface! I must go now to call the breeze. The fish are biting!