I gazed at the dreamcatcher that swayed peacefully above
Your dormant head.
Lost in my ways,
As it steadily swayed, above the halo on your head.
I internally bloom,
Despite the drought, despite the arid weather.
As if July could last forever,
As if roses could spread their feathers – in this desert.
Without direction, without guide,
I pry open the little vigor that’s left in me -
To focus on the lodestar hoisted in the North sky.
To open my eyes at the crack of dawn,
Whereupon, a dream can alight on this airless land,
And breathe in us new life - if only it were to be realized.