They stay dancing in the corners of my eyes
Not fully opened in the grey gauze morning
Chickadee clan is already darting between
Black Sunflower seeds and the sleeping Oak
They chide me for lingering inside
My cave of blankets with the dog
Her low snoring and small warm body
More real than the rumble of trucks outside
In here it is safe to let my dreams
Of a night mist valley
Of a night mist valley
Where old women gambol and circle
Of great amaranthine orchids
In a long abandoned den
All sift into the heart of my wisdom
Within the fabric of this moment
A place of light begins
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