So many destinations I can be.
A star dusted road ahead
Covered in a solar flare.
I close my eyes
And envision my first steps,
Slowly edging across the balcony
And gazing into the speckled sky.
My toes curl over the edge,
Cold from the emptiness around me.
Will I be able to fly?
Or will I fall into nothingness?
I drop off the balcony's edge
But I do not plummet into the abyss.
Instead a series of sounds envelop me,
Holding me in place.
A ringing of chimes
And a grinding of gears,
Echoing through my mind,
Awaiting my thoughts and commands.
The ticking crescendos,
Urging my process in haste.
I cannot stay here forever.
So I release a sigh
And open my arms wide.
The sounds dissipate.
The bells are but a dull roar.
The tocks and ticks have created my road.
I can hear it off in the distance,
A path seen with sound
And heard with the elements of Time.
It is a path I travel too often
As I flit from world to world.
Era to era,
I travel The Fourth Dimension.
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