Morning

For Silvina Ocampo 

I want to write with my eyes closed 

So I can see better. 

​

I want to see better those dreams 

That are bridges across and between 

The waking land and the dreaming sea. 

​

That Tree, 

Out in the waking land, 

See how she is dancing for you? 

And speaking to you 

Of the earth she is anchored in 

Of the water she is drinking 

Of her roots that are exploring down 

And her branches that are reaching up 

Of her friends and siblings and how they dance together

Of her mother who teaches her, 

Tree lessons. 

​

I want to write with my eyes closed 

So that I can see better the colour 

That my eyes can’t see. 

That colour that always makes me cry. 

That elusive colour that moves and in moving

Moves me 

Between the waking land and the dreaming sea. 

​

That Dream 

Where I am sitting on the shore 

With my feet in the water,  

With my eyes closed, 

Breathing in that colour. 

​

With every breath  

I change colour, 

And that colour changes me. 

I hold my shape, but tenuously, 

And, shape shifting become many floating bridges,

Weaving endlessly, 

Above and across and between  

The waking land and the dreaming sea.