The Drifting Dream

As I look over the wide river that slithers through the surrounding soils.
The river is so flat that the ripples of the fish splashing are like spinning tops swirling round and round.
The urge to go and play in me is a lion cub chasing a butterfly.
As I place my kayak in the water I feel the slight tension of the slow currant.

I clamber into my florescent yellow kayak, I shiver at first as the crisp water trickles over my body.
A slight rock when a leave the bank floats me down stream,
A subtle ride along a journey of dreams.
As the wind mill paddles curl around,
millions of water drops sprinkle down on me as if I am in an endless shower.

The little waves wave at me as my kayak makes a gushing and flushing
Sound as it slices thought the water like a dart.
Sssssccccchhh, I hit the sand on the bank and hop out for a rest.
The beauty is reflected from the water into my brightened eyes.
The river talks to me through its natural noises and lapping currents.

I slowly gather myself out of this tranquil trance,
Slowly make my way back to the patiently waiting kayak,
The adventure is coming to a peaceful end.
I drift in my floating hammock, waiting, waiting, to catch a new dream.