A Pipe-Dream

Bergen (Norway), August 2015

I dream
of small things,
of everyday;
of a coffee in the morning
as the sun arises;
of the fresh air of beginnings,
of my skin longing
to feel alive.

I dream
of the calmness
brought by rough seas;
of the tireless rumor
of crashing waves;
of my skin drying
with the wet salt of water.

I dream
of the shelter offered
by majestic woods;
of the sweet lulling whisper
of leaves in the Fall;
of my skin cooling,
goosebumps in the greenery.

I dream
of longing to be back
whenever I am not at home;
of the warmth at the hearth
on wintery days;
of my skin sweating
in the heat of a memory.

I dream
of big,
of small,
of tangible,
of immaterial,
of you.

And I wake up.