Magic Carpet Ride

Red and gold, like the sun.
Silk and metal.
Criss cross, in glint and gleam.
A beam of wonder cast inside
an ancient story masters mind.
A carpet we can ride.

Soft to touch, and run.
The journey has begun.
We sit and ride, fly high
on tides of hot wind.
East to begin,
with the rise of a sun.
Every sentence starts with one.

Above the clouds we float.
Smiles of wonder at all below.
Through any domain we can go,
over seas, forests, mountains, and plains.
Through mist and rains.
Golden heavens,
a fountain paradise.
Gigantic like worlds,
and tiny like mice,
on every path our minds can see.
The end is but a start to be.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.