I Dreamt of Manizales[1]
Bright blue skies, rolling clouds of silver and cream, faces for us to guess at. Bright green leaves on long arms of tall slender trees, reaching fingers to the skies. Yellow fields of flowing grasses, swaying and dancing to tropical rhythms; sprinkled flowers of pink and yellow, white and violet, crimson and amber.
Lakes of mirrored silver, translucent, slightly blue. Laughter scenting wind with hints of joy, pure and clear, unencumbered and sincere. Chirping birds floating lazily on warm currents, playing in the sun, gold glinting on Technicolor plumes.
Dreams spinning emotive tails, catching dreamers like puzzles with mismatched parts, a logic all their own. Breezes, sweet and gentle, just enough to cool the air.
I remember Manizales, and wish that I was there.
[1] © Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Ocala, Florida, 1998; all rights reserved
