Remnants of a Supposed Masterpiece

Remnants of a Supposed Masterpiece

I dreamed a dream,

In which I was standing,

Standing at the edge of a cliff,

Standing tall and undaunted.

And there before me,

Lay nature in its true form;

Green and blue and brown

Rendering the other colours invisible.

It was like a painting,

Delivering all the detail.

Except, it moved.

I stood there watching this painting,

Then, a sound came along.

A voice reciting a poem,

Praising the beauty of this painting.

It was my voice, delivering a poem,

A gift to all of nature.

Then music accompanied the praise,

The soft and serene music of the violin string,

Joined by regular beats of 

The drum.

Then I flew over nature,

Listening to that supposed masterpiece I was delivering,

Echoing through hills and valleys,

Floating over blue streams,

Sustaining life as there was.

I don't remember any of the lines.

One line vaguely comes back,

Like life with no body,

Unidentifiable.

I delivered a supported masterpiece praising nature.

I don't remember anymore. Maybe a day will come when the line gets a body.