The Visit 1

I'd like to visit them
in Dreams.
Under black thatched roofs
leaking prismatic drops of dew
into their senses.
They'd wait
preoccupied
by some strange play or thing
as I travelled
rolling on the wind
a wisp
something cool and dry.
Be forewarned,
my love for them,
for you...
would extend to the stars
and under the pressure
surrounding this
undoubtedly burst
and sprinkle down this earth
a lovely pearl snow
only to mix with prismatic dew
and ever so gracefully slip through the cracks
of their black thatched roofs
quenching the dust
of your consciousness,
and fertilizing the seeds
in that old attic,
creating a gorgeous
emerald sprout
that will in time
grow into something sturdy.
Something that looks
a lot like
me.

BH