A beautiful wild dream erupted in pink-glowed majesty this morning. Rough white-tipped waves greenblueing between me and the leafy redyelloworange panoply that lay at the feet of Spirit Father as he rose through the mist into a magical glowing golden sky.
This
O my father
guardian of this watery green
and low bluegray
on weary feet.
O my father
this, this blink
this gasp
this wonder.
This is why we come
and sing our dreams
into the graycloud skies.