When senses dim
and eyes
to the outer world shut
spiritless limbs fall heavy,
lips still,
and hearing low -
the second life
a fresh start receives.

Hills become mountains,
    mountains, hills.
Thoughts, like rocks
amass,
make strong stance,
then crumble
by weight of circumstance
freshly considered.
Yet rolling stones
in time
at rest arrive
energy spent
through collision -
new forms now move.

Spirit rattled,
    loosened,
to flight takes -
Slumbering vision
    regains verve,
    finds quality again.
Kingdoms await...
   above vast speckled desserts
   to remote and bolder peaks
imagined wings carry true eyes.

But soft descent anticipated
often disappoints.
Opened eyes suffer bright sights
of sad defeat.
Unfortunate surrender
dethrones a new king
and animation captures
mountains for the fresh day.