A walk in the park

In a mellow world

As I walk in the park

I have no words to say

No words to speak

The thoughts were placid

As the river flows

Into the deep

Off shore

Looking for words

I danced down the merry park

Among the people

Who had come for a walk

Out there on a bench

On each end

Transcended two figures

Shadowy statures

With philosophical hands

Eyes protruding towards me

I watched them direct me to a seat beside them

And as they shook and quivered

Their shadows seemed to blur

From the projectiles that had given them birth

In that dream

I walked to that seat

A misty cloud walk

That I had ever walked

Their eyes following my steps

To the seat that they had chosen

As I sat beside those philosophical hands

They looked away into the mist that I had walked

Trying to convey what they saw

Into the mist and through the chilly air

There seemed to be dancing walkers

With a motion and style

Each to their own

Motionless we sat together

Seeing the charade

Admiring the art being swayed by our eyes

So synced and wondrous

That I forgot to ask

Of what we were witnessing

With dismay

I intently looked

At the shadowy creatures

That sat beside me

To find out the meaning of the sways

As I looked away back into the mist

I saw a realm close by

The rough terrain off the park

Sunny and clear

Where no one existed

As if all people had been swayed by the creatures into the mist

There laid a hole

A perfect round

Cutty edges

And a fall that seemed too deep

I seemed to be swayed again into the mist

As the hole was uninteresting

I started looking away

When in a sudden splash

A steam of watchers came about the hole

With their right hand curved

Their index finger pointing towards us

With no placards

No language

They seemed gagged

And worrisome about what I did not understand

A blue light displayed in the area they stood

Where foot steps were placed

In the size of my feet

That I had walked

In the merry park

And as my eyes fell on the steps

All disappeared

Without a meaning, an explanation

Left without the beat of the conversation

That was about to be

The shadowy creatures seemed to be missing

Besides where I sat

On the bench

In the park that I come to walk

Bewildered

I got up to walk the path

And so I walked

In the merry park

Through the sunny terrain

With the walkers that were dancing in the mist

That they called art