Just the sound of the word make you fly,
Twirl even in the air,
Flow and flower in the water,
Whether in the darkness of the night
Or in the light of the day,
Under the stars or in the rays of the sun,
The eyes are closed
To see better and to get lost,
Somewhere else, smiling and blessed,
In the fullness of well-being
Then imagining, inventing, desiring, hoping,
You feel “in the moon”
As says the French metaphorical proverb.

Dreams are colors, shapes, music, touches.
They are the pale shades
Of translucent vaporous silks
In light pink, yellow and blue;
They are the notes of Tibetan singing bowls
On the roads of pilgrimages;
They are tender and delicate caresses.

Indistinct forms, indescribable figures,
Inexprimable phantasms..

But so, walking in the stars,
They bring you where you desire to go too…

Dreams then become aims,
That flood your being and fill you up,
That excite your heart,
That warm your soul.
And already you plan to leave,
Running, flying, swimming,
Singing and dancing,
To make your dreams reality,
Because they are
What looks like you the best.

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