In The Place Beyond (Automatic Poem)

Often the door to my Heaven opens;
sometimes in the heart of a rose;
other times I am carried there by the wings of music
or by the simple song of a bird in flight
then anger, hate and sadness have no hands to hold me down
and I am sailing, freely on that sea of indigo and gold
far above the heads of houses; minute arguments and cares;
feeling happy and peaceful and welcome among the stars.