Our Dreaming Commons

In our dreams we share

the lizard’s country

of sun-warmed stone,

decide on the flowers

alongside the bees.

We are as beautiful

as the world is beautiful.

(And sometimes

as full of grief.)

We worry our cache into

sweet soil beside the squirrel

with her hopes for a peanut tree

in the dreamscape where

no wish is futile.

We rest with the mouse

in her well-punctuated

nest of tiny dreams—

prowl the bear’s lair

with dreams wandering

the whole distance

of winter.

We follow the map

where breath is water,

and the sky an invitation--

navigating the true north

of the dolphin, the flash

of the hummingbird.

Thus dreaming docks us

at its common port,

dissolving the daylight walls

between us—returning us

to the mother hum of earth

that brought us here--

lest we mistake ourselves

for separate when we wake.