When I was smaller than I am now I had dreams of traveling
in dreams. Dreams of those I have loved and of those I have
yet to love. I question the realm of disbelief among humans
and wonder whether it is disbelief of fear of NOT believing
that makes one not believe in unicorns or fairies
or that maybe witches are not all ugly. The first time my
mother showed me her magic I was 8 months old. She brought me
water bursting like rainbows with every color included, it
surrounded me in warmth and colors. I knew she would always
make the world better if she had a choice to do so. I was
considered gifted for speaking at 6 months in complete
sentences but I felt myself a freak. She said I held magic
inside, deeply in my veins, that no one on earth could
understand nor explain. I felt special, but not for the
obvious reasons. I felt special that she could see
that dreaming and believing in unicorns was not all
that strange after all.

One wish could come true and change your life forever...have you ever thought that maybe the wish would be that truth changed and your life would be forever captured between a dream and the first fire of sunlight?


Lights glimmer from the swingset at night,
a sleeping city with grass and trees as passerbys
on their ways to velvet skies,
meeting angels. Small children in swings
held close in lands of dream fairies,
closer with each flying
sound of wings behind sleeping eyes.

� Be patient with me I am still working on this page.

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