White Biocentrism

As numbing waves of summer breeze caress legs and chest
my journeying mind siren-songs into a forgotten form of rest.
Five senses fire alive, ghost-tether to hearth and home
sailing both earth and sky, sunlight trailing like ocean foam.

Eye-to-eye with sight-bright star
or sneaking a ride to where spider moonbeams spar,
vivid visions spin into cryptic scents and sounds
distant yet intense all-around;

like a swimmer struggling to stay afloat
images reel dimmer, drowned by nearer musical note
whirling down a life-soaked stream to a coaxing shore
untouched by human hands or feet yet somehow seen before.

Leaf-cloaked oak trees stand in phantom rows, blink, fade,
Fate tempting to chance a safe place under imaginary shade.
The meaning of this scene is lost in space, a play unstaged--
as I wake, a palefaced heart beats blood back to its cage.

Dang, you can write my friend. A bard you are!!!!!!! Well done!!!!!!!!!

Thank you--you've got a creative mind to match your pen as well