As I sleep, come to me and
we’ll pretend everything, we’ll eat
mushrooms and fly, we’ll see winged horses,
ride them singing. Will you be open to me?
I want to be:
two streams flowing together
over a grassy plain, into one;
the happy grass, so green;
the rabbits leaping in the birches,
the honeysuckle and the rose,
the grey gull resting on the shore,
the sighing tides,
the trees like God’s legs,
tall, strong and dark,
the soft grey sky,
like a comfortable blanket.
Everything plays, naturally, today.
Joanna Wiebe, June 21, 1989