Face your dreams.

Weed out flying apes

And bombs. Put away

The toys, the fears,

The desolate unmarried


Years. Let what seems

To be take hold. Shape

The world with day.

Put away the souvenirs

Of youth, the harried


Anecdotes of war,

The baggage of an injured

Child and desperate time,

Rainy afternoons

And broken lives.


Focus rather on the roar

Of sun, the random bird,

High tides, the rhyme

And ripple in the dunes,

The throw that drives


The game, accidents

Of fortune, twists

Of light, sudden echoes

In the clouds,

Random chance,


And air that hints

Of sea, routine mists,

Normal haloes,

The constant crowds

Of stars that dance


With wind,

The dreams of women,

Filled with flowers,

Food, and children –

And realize


That leaves begin

In deeper seasons,

In accumulated powers

That determine

Iridescence in the skies.