The world seemed almost sense,
Full of absurd coincidence
And events merging,
Senses that blurred
One with the other.
I came downstairs,
Gazed at the rising sun,
Harkened its crimson
Sound, plangent with pleasure,
And azure melancholy.
Birds in the hedge
Sculpted the cool air.
In scrolls of beauty.
Flowers played sweet cadences
Of scent and sight around
In dying falls of sound

While I, dimly aware
Of tasting knowledge
Just beyond my grasp,
Climbed up the stairs,
Unsure in my mind
If I was dreaming
Or merely waking
For the first time.