Meditations

Mystic morning dreams
The dusky black curtain of night
pulled back
whispers
the pale golden light of day
two worlds
sharing the same space
purple mist
the earth
bathed with dew
moist
open
light encroaches
awakening
golden fire
burning
surreal blanket of mist
ride the silver bus
floating up
fading away
warmth enveloping
waiting for you.

Back to the rocking horse
Sometimes when the mood is right
and the sun hangs golden in the sky
I remember moments of past innocence lost
moments from a past long gone
I close my eyes and I am in my room
with its pink walls
in my own world
a world without war, and hunger ,and suffering
a world only a child could live in
a world I am reluctant to leave
now older and wiser I remember all the good times I had
with my dolls, my toys, my swingset
my imagination was the fuel of those short, carefree years
I look back on it and smile
and sometimes
when things look bad
I wish I could go back there
and curl up with one of my favorite dolls and forget
all my troubles
well, maybe someday…