Dream that descend as waterfalls
Illuminating diamond brilliance deepest night
The glowing tail of a shooting star
Flashes of lightning amidst menacing clouds
Lamp shining in an assassin’s cave
Upon awakening transparent as bubbles
Illusions in the watery morning light
See the endless things as a dewdrop
The souls encased within the stone of statues,
Chimerical monsters, phantasmagorical creations, heraldic beasts,
Slowly exhale, stir sleepily, vividly animate, move rapidly,
Alight off the columns,
Descend from church alcoves,
Climb down from rooftops
To roam through the squares, palazzos and streets
Which they have always dominated symbolically
But now is the time to colonize the city concretely.
For a fractured moment I was in an imaginary country
(Though all countries are imaginary in the context of eternity)
Dreaming delicately within the confines of the Palace of the Moon
Of melting and malleable nephrite, diamond, mountain
While the scent of jasmine and rose lingered throughout centuries
Sunlight and shade colluded to cast a permanent twilit glow
Rendering every corner, corridor and doorway mysterious
If I stop at a window the view is always surprising, different
Sometimes birds and butterflies hover motionless in the spring riot
At the next flight a blanket of snow covers the sleeping earth
In between lotus eating I await the one mandated by Heaven
The Empress of desires whose kiss resonates on my lips forever
For a few seconds a stray sunbeam
Makes visible the dance of dust motes
Swaying, trembling, swooning then falling
I have been granted a glimpse
Of harmony in the floating world
For the moment I am deeply content
Eyelids heavy, chin dropping towards chest
I dream of angels in a distant Heaven
Languidly embracing in the shallows
Of a limpidly becalmed pool.
I dreamt that I was a butterfly
Reality is always retreating
Bidding adieu in the mirror
Who dreams that she was a man
An eternal regress,
Recess set within infinite recesses
From long ago and very far away
A vanishing point
Seemingly out of reach
Whose own dream poised a question
Maybe the way is to walk,
Fly in the wrong direction.
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