I dreamed again

Skin nestled next to the corners of the eyes

and lines pointing to the triangle of white.

Like arrows 

leading to the sun -

a fireball watching over for 35 years.

It gives gifts, 

like textured hands 

and busy brains.

Pumping blood to the rhythm of,
“To do rather than to be. to move rather than to feet, 

             'cause we don’t have time for that”

The daily blaze speaks, 

as we roll toward him for a sunset, 

and roll away 

all the same.

I dreamed again of my childhood. 

Those final pages 

where summary is like twine tying up

something - though it feels

 undone.

I dreamed again of feeling. Of unknowing.

Of discovery - a pillowy dress surrounding me.

I dreamed again of beauty.

Rays of heat present,

nestling upon that small patch of the wooden floor -

where dust particles dance and float and suspend

themselves for a moment.

With nothing else to do 

but be.

As eyes close, the temples stretch, and

It’s smooth again.

A freshly made skin bed -

Unbothered.

Unknowing.

Young again.

I dreamed again.