[Attempt 1: Somewhat Over-Edited]
Journey is on a road. A road to nowhere, or somewhere or anywhere. By cart, foot, jet, horse. A way to go, a way to be. A cat on a cart, pulled away away away. down a dusty path into a stream. The sun beats down on the road, bakinginto brick the prints of birds and otters and moose and elk and coyote. People have been there, and their feet leave little pools in the (heat?). Little shells glisten in the twilight, catching fairie dust as it falls from stars. fireflies danve around their own flame, whirling dervishesof energy and light, essence of free.

[Attempt 2: Less inhibition]
Shiny silver boat in a big under the sky in the world in the space. I see the falling milk from the cloud to mud. I want a giant monkey to come and sing a lullaby and the smell like a stinky toad. Witch in the closet cackles and cockels, alive alive-o, miss. What do I see in the cookie crushes?