The Streets Of My Dreams

~...The streets of my dreams don't have stop lights. 
They don't have roads. N traffic. No cars, engine, accidents. No bikes, either.
Just people, walking from place to place, from side to side, from one dream to another. 
The streets of my dreams are not flat. Nor are they hilly.
The streets of my dreams are winding uneven terrain.
One can float on them, or hop, or fly.
One can walk inside of them, or below, or hover above.
The streets of my dreams have no rules, no rule keepers.
No rules to break and no people to break them.
Only dreamers occupy the streets of my dreams.
Dreamers who spring without moving, who move like clouds, softly, effortlessly, gigantically into the next moment, the next dream.
The streets of my dreams don't have maps. No gps, or guidance.
No way to get to. No way to come from. No way at all.
The streets of my dreams have no directions, no appointments, no schedules.
No errands. No meetings. No plans.
The streets of my dreams have happenings, not sometimes, but ALL the times.
All the times.
And they are present, reckless, bewildering, just like the making of dreams...~