I drift now under veering violet skies
puffy white pies, them holding my dreams inside.
New sensations welcomed with a waving hand
and smiles from the strangers standing in golden sand.
My journey is guided and molded
with open arms, not folded.
The landscape expands and the path meanders on
as the sun warms my chest. All meager thoughts, be gone.
From the dust in this dusk cross pollination permeates the air
I solemnly swear no hierarchy in my chair.
Drifting hawk above distributes my vibe
together we blend our trend, our tribe.
The spirit has no colour
open your path, become a scholar.
We are all equal under one sky.
Join us. Come fly.