Beyond the crown of clouds
darts the Rainbow Serpent
covered in shroud.

Where the magik is mundane,
world like a jewel of wonder,
the Wizard's otherworldly plane.

Dashing and spinning
through the blossoms of morning awe
A stunning Rainbow serpent, I had saw.

Visions of a madman
condemned to misunderstandings.
Am I the last of the people who dream in color?

A silent blue engulfs the metallic body that I lay in
I'm slumped against the side of the door, gazing at the minuscule droplets microscopically reflecting my stare
Rumbles and mumbles tumble through the clouds like badly kept secrets fan faring with a flash of purple lightning

My body is filled with nostalgia as my father cranks up the Yankee game on the century old automobile radio
My mother conks out, snoring louder than a booming stereo at a high school football game

These are the rides I like to remember
When no one is yelling
Or crying
Plastering smiles across their faces when hidden discomfort is making their nerves shake violently
Everything is quiet
But the white noise speaks more words than I ever will