A new dream

A new dream plants its roots in me,
With alluring scent and sunny thoughts,
And suddenly I can hear the wind’s lyrics.
The sky is mastering Earth
And there is an echo of wings
Flying away.

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Born in a Dream

Born in a dream
I awaken to see
That I am my own creator,
The first word before
My life’s sunrise.

This is the heart of melancholy

A tender seasonal gust of leaves
Scoops my dreams up
And rush them through the ajar window.
A fine-toothed comb
Brushes through my knotted thoughts.
It is as though the morning is left
Sitting, half asleep, out there
On one of the distant isles with nothing
But a lighthouse to keep it
From leaning back into the darkness
Of the pre-autumnal night.
This is the heart of melancholy;
A wistful longing, a vague memory of safe harbor,
Scraped away by the rawness of beautiful sunny days.
A dream with one leg rooted in summer pasture
And one leg winged by the mystery of night.