I sail across to distant shores on liquid beams of gold;
Sea mist swirls across my vision quickly dissipating in their glow.
I do not remember where I came from, but know to sail on?
It is the way; it is the only way.
Drops of rainbow dew pool on my skin.
Each colour reminds me of something, but I can’t recall what?
I am plagued by it, soon obsessed, and the mist seems to respond by sheafing me, protecting me from myself.
I toss and turn, feel the need to step from my small boat, am distressed.
Darkness seeks to encroach upon my golden highway and panic seizes me.
I feel myself lost, adrift, a breath of memory.
Then, at the point of frenzy the moon rises through the murk, cloud subsides and the golden beams turn silver, calming my fractured mind.
A voice comes to me through the gossamer night.
I know it, and feel relief as it soothingly calls, whispers through my dreams.