What impression would I leave if I asked you to imagine
Small patches of undulating light reflecting high on a warm wall,
Only a twig’s space flowing in between them,
Outlined by the ebb and flow of a softer shadow?
Even behind the shroud of the realization
That I had yet to open my eyelids,
The fluid motion reminded my soul
Of a time I had not yet spent,
Near a body of water I had not yet found,
But in a place and time so familiar, so comfortable,
I longed for a return visit.
Where the cool breath of the water
And the mild warmth of the early summer on my skin
Call me back to sleep, again.