i dreamed of a rose made of fire
whose smoke was sweet
smoldering in the whispers of angels
whispering to me, "go"
go and find the door to the sky
where we lead you, go
and step through to that other side
that you cannot imagine
a billion stars being born and dying
and a searching wind
it wraps us in the invisible smooth
it becomes our body
for it is not we who walk the earth
it is the sensation
our experience mostly seeking our eyes
our place lost in time
where the dreaming rains in watercolor
and the rose of fire
is painted on the black of the night
like it were blooming
in an eternity, in a single hour
