Years from now

You stand at the powdery edge of the ocean, squinting at the trembling horizon. Cliff birds wail and hoop, flecking the filmy air. You catch sight of ancient skies and roses, ponds in granite and gorse and grains of pollen, dandelion and deserts, meadows and mice and mountain streams. You fly over estuaries and elephants, shells and snow and trees, tapestry of rock, quilt of fields, mosaic of flowers, to eat apricots with angels. Sea spray rises, sucking back through pebbles. A mossy forest carpet creeps towards the gorge, plummeting blue-green and wiry. Swans cross the tundra, under a kaleidoscope of stars. Grizzled dust is moved off by dragonflies, with titian wings, to tributary and steppe. You glimpse ocelot, chameleon, pelican and ape. Anemone and marble recline, trembling, in wild water. The sidewinder is kissed by the gentle maw of a zephyr, whilst you are skimming over thunderglades and poppy clouds to tilt continents with gods. You witness wind shaping milk dunes and a reef silenced by the screech-owl. In thrall of starfish and goblins, you gaze at empyrean, painted heights. Voles dance in tiny, darkened pond-holes as you make rain with the ghosts. You soar with the prophets, mercurial and boundless, over iguanodon and mule, minotaur and lobster, gryfen-wolf and bat, glacier and peachwood, jet and flint and loam. Flash floods scoop up your cradle, ready for the new century. And you can hurtle over planets, with your alchemy of dreams.