The Wandering Wind

I woke one night in whimsied flight
through dreams I thought I’d lost.
A world so still I hardly breathed,
in tendrils of inviolable frost.

Vast mountains loomed before my eyes,
monolithic beasts of old,
while beside them fell a valley deep
and wrapped within the cold.

Legends slept within the white wood,
frozen when time first stood still,
and shuddered with the wandering wind
as it whispered in the quiet chill,

"Lay your weary dreams by me,
I’ll hide them far away.
Your troubled thoughts and silent fears
will never touch you, if you stay.

This world was only meant for you;
beneath each unturned stone,
there waits another fantasy
for you, and you alone.

Only in these eternal vales
might your fires never die,
never fade nor flicker in the dark
if you but let your bad dreams lie.

Come down, come down," winds called to me,
and how my heart ached then.
What I wouldn’t give to live forever
in this ancient winter glen.

I could feel the souls of primordial things
like ghosts between the trees,
growing closer as I left my dreams
in the slowly dying breeze.