Dream

The typewriter produces intermittent sounds, with gaps of silence in between.
A REMASTERED from Sun’s.

An endless horizon coils inside the dream,
Where walls are raised from bowls of gleaming grain.
Clouds inscribe their ancient spells above,
Veiling white bones, too weary now of love.

A fox recites its verse upon the slope,
The hearth-beast winters there, bereft of hope.
The line of dawn splits earth’s old, calloused skin,
Weeds bind the wind; the echoes freeze within.

A hidden blast devours the settling dust,
White linens flutter where the doors adjust.
An elephant looms large in absent might,
A hand, through fingers, points into the night.

The valley shelters travelers walking lone,
Who pour sweet love in bottles carved of stone.
A child, extinguished, breathes out fireflies,
To guide lost souls away from canine cries.
They drift through mist, evade the hunting hound,
While shadows float where barren trees abound.

The grain is beaten into grayest ash,
The snowstorms chew with soft and muffled crash.
A balloon that cages wind begins to rise,
Its colored voyage spanning endless skies.
Cicadas flood the dry and stony bed,
The people gather where the autumn bled.
A pyre ignites beside the feathery hay,
A horse returns; its eyes alone convey.
The moonlight cracks like eggshell, thin and torn,
The tides reclaim what weary seas have worn.
In trade, the jellyfish ascends the hill,
Curtains of water make the windows still.

Birds from the chest take flight and soar afar,
Around ten thousand suns they dance and spar.
Take the doused lightning, the cloud-tides’ folded sway.
Take the gods’ soft whispers, the anchor planted deep in sand.
Take the oxidized love songs, mountain grudges, treasure, brand.
Take the foolish passions, sleepwalkers’ prints, Moth’s unfair flame.
Take all given names—and with them vanishes the rainbow’s frame.