Unreal fields in a
Matrix of terrain
A watchtower

Wheat crops unreaped
And unmarked roads

We come upon
This scene
When we sleep
And go wandering

When we’re in
Trance by every
Step pushing aside
Soft tufts of grain
We find our
Own way

Rendering hills
In the distance
As we approach

Awake and lucid
Dreaming of the
Small town
We discover

It’s ours

Yet we continue
Into the night

Asleep but awake here
In these peaceful fields

Leave a Reply