I Sit In My Tree I Sing

What Are You?" I Whispered. He Shrugged Again. "something," He Said. "something Like You, Something Like A Beast, Something Like A Bird, Something Like An Angel." He Laughed. "something Like That.

We Have Each Other, And Our Stories Twist And Mingle Like The Twisting Currents Of A River. We Hold Each Other Tight As We Spin And Lurch Across Our Lives. There Are Moments Of Great Joy And Magic. The Most Astounding Things Can Lie Waiting As Each Day Dawns, As Each Page Turns.

Writing Will Be Like A Journey, Every Word A Footstep That Takes Me Further Into Undiscovered Land.

Maybe We're All In Somebody's Dream. Maybe Everything's A Dream, And Nothing Else.

Truth And Dreams Are Always Getting Muddled.