I’ve been warned
there is a dreamer
rests beneath my collar bone
spends the night
curled beneath me –
a fiery furnace made of stone
sometimes words can resurrect us
from all we loved
all we know –
of the joys recalled in living
hand to heart
soul to soul

in the leaves
I hear the ocean
silent strumming on the shore
as I walk the beach at sunrise
I feel the trees like ne’er before
one remains
and one remembers
where is home
and what I keep
of the blessings that surround me
broken seashells
velvet leaves

. . .