Journey with me
until the sands shift beneath you,
until the airships fly,
leaving shadows in the sun.
Verily,
the sky is such a natural blue
hiding numbers beneath:
binary that spirals into space.
How long a naught,
how long a cross?
How long a zero,
how long a one?
What links the mind
to ice
that flies in the face...
...of fire that melts it not?
A simple, unpretentious(?), unoriginal message:
Don’t give up the dream.