Eyes sharp and ears keen

I wonder, is this a dream?

The warm breeze blows

as the snow falls low.

Where am I?

 

The sounds of nature

and rustling wind,

the light gray sky

at horizon's end.

What is this?

 

Floating lights?

Standing water?

Curving trees?

Maybe...this is a dream.

Who are they?

 

Shadowy figures

between the leaves

whispering they say,

You must soon leave.

I know what I am.

 

I look at my hands

I see shadows

I look at my feet

The ground they do not meet

I know what I am.

 

I am Lost.