Poetry / At the End of the Rainbow

At the End of the Rainbow

The lion roars in the grass
and I am a
serpant slithering
underneath the gazelle jumping
wearily through blissfull grass
away from the lion’s den.
Who knew the sun was blue
on mars away from gravity?
And that is my imagination.
See you sweetly sleeping on the rooftop
and I see you for the first time.
We are the bug on the yellow flower
slowly crawling towards the nub at its
end.
If we slept in the sun we would be superman.
And if we walk across the ocean we would be Jesus
but who could bounce on clouds like a trampoline?
Perhaps we would then be the soul of disco funk.