If I could ask the divine for one thing
it would be the mystery,
the surprise, the cool balm
the day brings, the warmth of the sun,
the rumbling of my stomach
Grass seeds slumping easterly
towards the ice melting breeze

Dandelions are my favorite this
Year, their distinct phases
Their spears, their flight
Like tarot suits
Representing everything in their
Changes
All possibilities, all
Magic, all swords and Wands and Cups and Coins

In my dream I’m devouring the
flowers and becoming the leaves

Anger and strife are the darkness of night,
The chrysalis of 
Time
forcing my shape
into one which will fly