Coma

A short poem from the perspective of a coma patient

I dance jauntily with in my mind,
Sway, swing and skip in kind.
Merrymaking to a fro,
Clipping, clopping heal to toe.

Little voices fly to me,
Well wishers I can not see.
They hope and they beseech,
Some pray and some preach.

For what I do not identify,
I do not care to know why.
I am happy in my ecstasy,
Why do these voices bother me?