The air and my consciousness.

My feet skip and jump
while little letters catches up to me,
 it follows my footsteps.
And it jumps around my feet like a ping-pong ball.


My hands trail paint on walls 
while letters create
themselves and 
they follow my hands like string and kittens.


My breath breathes out fog into daylight 
and my letter follows my breath like life or
miracles.


My hands reach out to the door knob
and they ask me
"Is this the beginning or is this the end?"
And I pause and tell them with a smile on my face,
"I don't know.

But its up to you, to dream."