Take me back to your shack, the one by the creek, the one with the still nearby, the one with the rusted roof...I miss that shack, it was a lovely ruin, melting slowly back into the woods becoming one once again with the elements.
The mornings scream HELLO!!! at me, wake up, wake up, wake up? I revel in the serene beauty of the evolving/changing/chameleon colors, black becomes blue, blue becomes yellow, orange burns into red and pick, and yellow turns back into blue. It shimmers, the sunlight mixing with the moonlight on the surface of the water, disturbed by the ducks and the geese. The distant stars disappear and the nearest star appears fiercely blinding my image.
He's quiet, he's shy and unassuming, he wants for little. He's just a cat trying to find his way home. Oh, to be like his namesake, Prima. Will he live up to it? Will I?
Are we going to be friends? She asked? Why?
It's all probably a mistake, just a dream that explodes into thousands of shards of mirror when we wake, painfully.
Oh, it is just a dream and an illusion. An illusion of peace that is wished and wanted. Peace be to you and be to all. Thanks.