Dream walk

Spirits soar —
Confront me eye with eye.
Nothing is strange now.
An ageing woman
I walk by a stream.
A red boat bobs on an incoming tide.
A gentian sky, the colour of angel
eyes.

Nothing is separate.
The first thread of a spider's web
Did it begin here?
This miniscule spider crafting a bridge
to morning light?
Silk threads loop craggy orchard boughs.
Clouds become ephiphanies —
No questions arise.
I round a corner, to a farm gate.
A child with pigtails and red ribbons
runs to me.
I open my arms and embrace her supple
child's body.
Peace comes like a feather bed.
I lie down and stretch.

© Jenny Barnard