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by Gloria Garcia Nesloney

I seek a realm of peace, I lay my weary head. I drift between time and space, I am free here instead. My spirit soars and takes flight, higher than high. Nothing is concealed in the midst of my eyes.

Contours, shapes, colors, flavors, smells, emotions. My spirit is part of all the commotion. I am above, below, in the middle, or seeing from afar. All these scenes I see, it's really bizarre.

Who can know the dreams I've dreamed?