A Colourful Symphony

I leave Reality on a single path
Walking beside Dream,
He leads me into a silent wood,
And across a silent stream.1

I step through layers of sunset red,
Before me lie a marvelous sight,
An orchestra range in an enormous arc
Spreading forever to my left and right.2

Violins, cellos move in great waves,
Tubas, trumpets, horns play as one,
But listen as hard as I wish I could
I hear nothing, not a single sound.3

“They play the sunset,” says Dream,
“Watch.” as the flutes give a thrill,
Layers of gold, crimson, purple, pink
Pile themselves upon a hill.4

Color fades from the western sky,
Slowly the instruments stop and sway,
Until the bass fiddles of somber tone
Remain to play the night away.5

I watch silver bells brighten the stars,
When a fancy took me by the heart,
One by one as the hours march past,
I decide - for a little while - to conduct.6

I stand on the high podium poised,
Then slowly wave my fingers once,
The musicians turn to me as one,
Their colorful eyes begin to dance.7

A single piccolo plays a single note
And yellow streak crosses the sky,
Two more pipe and a flute join in,
Three more rays above me fly.8

With both hands now I sweep them wide
And watch as all musicians play,
The cellos make the hills glow red
And the violas melt darkness away.9

I lead the violins in a serenade
Of pale green grass and emerald spring,
Trumpets blare out the cerulean sea,
Warm yellow glow the oboes fling.10

Trombones puff out clean white clouds,
The tubas tint them grey,
Shimmering harps play the silver rain,
Drums for a lightning display.11

Soft muted tones of foggy streets,
With rhythmic beats of neon lights,
The clarinets tinkled a beautiful rainbow
To my wonder and utmost delight.12

Parades and fireworks the orchestra plays,
From lavender to rich magenta red,
Gust of bassoons, blasts of horns, orange
And chartreuse comes to head.13

Exhausted I drop my hands to my side,
And the concerto slowly fades,
Bass fiddles carry on as colors wilt,
Darkness again claims the glade.14

My vision tingles with beauty unfold,
As silver bells light the sky with stars,
A shooting star flew across the sky,
Serenaded by a solo guitar.15

“What a colorful symphony,” says Dream,
I bow to his applause of awe.
I have conducted the colors of the wind,
With it my spirit do soar.16

I, maestro of color, director of spectrum,
Returns to Reality with a yawn,
I curl up upon the music of tomorrow,
Eagerly awaiting dawn.