In my hand I hold a key
Three golden gates stand before me
Past present and future
The key does not open the first two
The third opened easy
My future rushes past me
Like a drowning man
I grab for a life raft
I am wrapped around a fallen log
The green river carries me past
A city of glass domes
A row of houses with stained glass windows
Golden skinned people walking the streets
Going about their daily business
This is not the future I had planned
The river moved me on
Past lush green pastures
Rainbow coloured horses running free
An image from a child’s colouring book
But not where I should be
When I wake in the hospital bed
Having been knocked from my bike
I am saddened by the loss of images
My mind had carried me through
My future now, was waiting
For a broken leg to mend
And a story to write…
Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes 
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