Into the ends of your mind lightly journey. . .
If you seek for the beauty of Myrr. . .
Down to the depths of your heart meekly travel. . .
To the dream, of the beauty, of Myrr.
And a thick curtain of mist gently parting. . .
Cold, wet, spray softly tingles your cheeks. . .
And the bouncing of light off the curtain of mist. . .
Leaves rainbow sparkles within your memory.
And as your dream slowly unfolds about you. . .
And a breeze warmly rustles your hair. . .
You hear a soft roar, like the pur of a cat. . .
As upon you, unfolds this dream I call Myrr.
The mists fade away, and you find yourself there. . .
The magnificance creeps through your soul. . .
For with beauty like this, could a breath be taken?
For fear of losing the wonder of Myrr.
Far above you! (so far you can see no end!)
Comes the roar of the waters you heard!
And the violence and peace, that caused you to gasp!
And a power no human can know. . .
And beyond you, the song of a whole'nother world. . .
In this wonderful place we call Myrr. . .
Swaying of branches in a crisp, gentle wind. . .
And the thick scent of forever-green pines.
And to the neat prickly path, you will wonder. . .
As you make your way into the woods. . .
And the floor of the forest is quilted in fern. . .
Everything, perfect, in it's own way. . .
And a strangness begins to enveloup you. . .
For, no life in this myrr there remains. . .
No wildlife, no humans, only your lonely soul. . .
And you ponder "than, how can this be?"
And as slowly as came, Myrr faded away. . .
As your realizations set it. . .
Merely a dream, this pure hope that you found. . .
When you journeyed into. . . the mists. . . of Myrr. . .
-Rebecca Suzanne Zimmerman
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