Story Teller

The world awaits a new tale… filled with wonderment and life… visions and strife… the world awaits a new hero, a new world, a new time… every second one is born, another one dies.

I sit and read tales told through countless lifetimes. I fly through my mind. As I read the words they lose their shape and become landscapes of thought.
The story teller paints on the canvas of veiled sight. Whispering thoughts and watching them blossom. Watching them flow on the river of words until abstract becomes understood and understanding becomes reason for the listener. They tell yet always see in plain sight.

 

I sit and listen to the voice of the teller. Hearing the words and entering their minds. I fly.

 

Turning I see them. I hear the words they spoke as they wrote and they dreamed.

 

I saw them fly.

Eternal be the words, eternal be the thoughts, they remain for eternity. Infinitely flowing through minds. They live forever as others die.

Words. Thoughts. Voices. Memories. Dreams. Visions. Emotions. Created. Destroyed. Transformed. Interpreted. Saved. Deleted.

The voice of the story teller lives and is spoken through time.

As they whisper you can hear their true voice

As you listen you can see them fly

 

Turn and hear me.

See me. Telling you a tale.

Can you see me fly?