Reverie

Done debating: trance or reality;
whether to go against or with the flow.
Lie down on this velvet fern-green grass with me
as we pause. Grow. Slow.

Mother of Pearl cloud gazes down on us,
waving in iris colors.
We wave back; this ephemeral beauty
etched. Budding. A core memory flowers.

The sky moves closer, or maybe I
am moving, towards the haven
of cottons floating. Some parts held,
some parts unknown

as I break into a dandelion blown
into debris.
Crashed. Loosened. Awakened.
Oh, how the ruin set me free.