Awake from a dream
dipped in sun fire,
is a caterpillar still
wrestling in my heart's
asylum—a chrysalis,
summoned by the
wilderness, is prying
itself open.

Where the field laid
bare in a pallor of cold,
is where spring begins
to overflow, like flowers
blooming from the deepest
nether—loving death is
outgrowing this world.

I wear a cloak of patience
over limitless energy,
shedding for dialogue
between potentialities,
inside me spins a thread
of great longing, but
around me, a great hope
is bursting at the seams.

A force spurs a descent
from the cave, from the
crumbling walls I am made.
What remains lifts the
curtains before a
show begins, where
in solitude I undress to
become a house of wings.

The orchard cradles
my smallness in a
concentrated blossom—
lighter than breath,
brighter than vision,
hidden among all there is,
a great wave inside a ripple.
To be delighted is to realise,
the world you fell into is
a vast sky.

We swim inside
the balsamic moon
rippling in laughter,
from the meeting
of our bodies still
shimmering
in water,
touched by life
but not by time,
weathering.
Together, we sail
in silver currents
circling bends
slowly as the river
that once carried us
empties into an
ocean dream, and
like sediments too,
we distill into
 infinity.