Sometimes, at night, they let their hair down
and catch starfish in a net of light
Last night I dreamed they came to my window
and rattled chains against the shutters of my head
They commanded that I let them in and when I did
an immensity of stars fell to earth in all their frosty glory
I did not wake to bird song, to joy and apples, but lilikoi and lemons on vines in a continuing foreign dream.
The salt sea breaks and I walk naked on my childhood beach
wearing only mysteries and shadows
Sea gulls rock and riot on an invisible summer wind
Sand under my toes scratches at my memory
Ghosts wander through the room in which I sometimes sleep
Dancing, laughing, whispering words in a language I do not understand
I pinch myself a midnight of black and blue and awake to their echo
When the music starts, the dryads, bark-skinned, brown-eyed,
no longer myths, invite me to dance with trees
Shadows tango along the ground, reaching for the sky
Around them, the glittering discarded stars, hard and cold
My mind sees what has been, knows what is to come,
but not the when of it.
There are words
“Listen to the grinding voice of stone. Listen to the earth's grey bones.
Listen to the sparkling voice of water. Listen to the ocean’s song.
Listen to the laughing voice of fire. Listen to the inferno’s howl.
Listen to the whispering voice of air. Listen to the wind’s gasping scream.
Soil, seasons, sun and rain.
At night the water is awakened by the moon
and utters faint messages.
Listen to the voice of the Moon”
A silver flash across the tiny door of my eye
A lack of fear grips my heart, and makes life absurd
Running after something, all night, the height of happiness, something similar, familiar.
A dream wanting to redo.
We dream together in the gathering darkness
listening to the approaching footsteps of warm wind walking through the open door, ruffling hair, and climbing out through the kitchen window…..