Awakening on a spring-like morning,
dream hangovers allow short mystery.
When I went to bed last then, it was late,
the whole night designing a tomorrow.
Walking through a maze, a similar thing,
a peace measured, my solo destiny.
That same assignment, wishing, a clean slate.
Every night behind our eyes we borrow
into our psyche, in search of clarity.
Archives, our mind the heart of our being.
A dream provides us so much time to wait,
where then if we are wishful, we allow
the fantasy of our thoughts, could, release
a natural rhythm, sweet soul at peace.
What Crosses My Mind 
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