Longing for Galapagos

In sleep's delicate hug, I think of myself as untied,

A domain of dreams unfurling, where nature takes its gift.

In the midst of the immense scope of night, a signal delicately gleams,

I sail upon heavenly oceans, longing for Galapagos.

Underneath the twilight material, the world starts to blur,

Reality's limitations yield, as dreams are deftly made.

The stars, similar to old narrators, murmur stories untold,

Of islands where development winds around its accounts, strong and old.

In the core of the Pacific, where central breezes play,

Galapagos, an Eden framed, in the illumination of Darwin's day.

I stand upon volcanic shores, where history's ink was spilled,

A journey to nature's hallowed place, where time itself is stilled.

Through the archipelago I meander, in dreams so clearly turned,

Experiencing animals abnormal and uncommon, underneath the central sun.

The turtle, savvy and old, with a shell that bears life's guide,

Directing me through ages past, as though on nature's lap.

In sleep's domain, I collective with the blue-footed booby's dance,

An expressive dance on the coastline, a festival of life's opportunity.

Wings overhead, in synchrony, against a cerulean sky,

A dance of development, where variation's wings let fly.

The marine iguana, watchman of the briny profound,

With sizes of black, in the sea's support rest.

Longing for a world underneath, where seagrass backwoods influence,

An expressive dance underneath the surface, where life figures things out.

Underneath the waves, I'm invited by the energetic ocean lion's smile,

A buddy in fluid dreams, where the sea's stories start.

Together, we navigate flows, in a fluid, twilight daze,

Investigating profundities untold, where shadows cast their dance.

The gooney bird, a winged writer, in the visionary's sky,

With wings that length forever, they show me how to fly.

Over the archipelago, in thermals taking off high,

An excursion through the sky, where dreams and reality lie.

However, as dreams might disappear, reality's force attests,

I wind up upon my bed, where dream and alertness teases.

Galapagos, a far off dream, blurring with the morn,

However in my heart, the reverberations of the islands are renewed.

Goodness, Galapagos, in the openings of my rest,

Your marvels make a permanent imprint, impressions that run profound.

In dreams, I contact your shores, with each sense permeated,

A consecrated domain of nature's craft, where dreams and truth are toned.

What's more, as the first light unfurls its arms, embracing waking eyes,

I convey with me pieces, of Galapagos' skies.

For in the dreamscape's embroidery, an association solidly planted,

A scaffold to nature's miracles, in the visionary's heart, is known.