Dreamscape
It wasn’t till sleep's midnight
that I heard the down-pouring
of day fade-away, only
to give-in to a gospel of rain.
Struggling to re-live folk tales,
mortal owl and pot of porridge.
“If you can see what fills you up,
you can drink from Nature’s cup.”
Looking over the edge of earth,
listening to the waterfalls.
Watching the lost ships fall-off
and asking if I should give-in.
And there, just outside of Spring,
two pink rose buds opening.
As a slivered moon sings,” Winter
has not turned-over His reign.”
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