She dreams in shades of gold,
Speaking in tongues as her soul
runs naked, tumbling through the air,
Through fields of green and leaves in her hair.

She dreams in honey scented meadows,
Breathe in their nectar; rays against the window,
Twisting through the seasons like red wine,
While sunflowers raise their head to shine.

She dreams in the sunny winter breeze,
For her dreams to never cease.
Like the form of a never-ending snowfall,
And her will to live through all the odds.

She dreams in the early morning sun,
While the heat ends the blooming month,
Her fall; to burn while she crashes,
And yet to rise from renewed ashes.

She dreams in shades of gold,
As she stands on a dais of old,
Gold around her nape so bright,
Like thousands of candle lit from a single light.