Harmony of Childhood Dreams — Fern Hill
Stain glass by M. LeBreton
I am almost awake and almost asleep, drift
less as a boat without rudder or sail or harbor
to set anchor, or slip away from.
I am under a blanket of owl wings.
In the forest of dark beliefs, I use
the current to swoop on
to the unsuspecting
like light arriving earlier than normal.
I am the horses peering around the edge
of sleep like it was a hill with ferns
numerous as thoughts
keeping the morning and night
from meeting and unsettling.
I am colors finding their way home
after being in the lost.