when the night quiets
I await my journey
moth wings against my window
delay the return
of my lucid dream
now paused upon the lip
of consciousness
light wind creates that comforting brush
of leaf and limb
and time
because the release of all things relative
stands still
we meet
first in colors
then in movement
all the lives
all the dreams I have lived
are here
encased in the majestic realm
of the dreamer