My Dream Home:

i give my dreams a home: a place, my dreams can feel loved, where my dreams can take off their shoes, at the end of a long day’s journey, 

i believe, my dreams love out loud, they love outside of me, my dreams have fireplaces all of their own, cozy up to their own kitchen tables, make themselves chamomile tea, in teacups of wooden carved-makings,

my dreams need lots of space to move around in, to be welcome, to feel safe in, to explore the world within me. 

i welcome my dreams/ my dreams live here, there’s a welcome mat at the front door, there’s chicken soup for those weary nights, you have to keep the lights burning, a warm bath to rest those old spines, 

 a bit of jazz and soft splashes of rain, and wind to nourish the shadow- soul, hints of cinnamon, and winter spices tiptoe lightly, beside the dreamer and her dreams,

across the window sill there are dream-pods,

with names of things she’s planting, 

each one, a new love, 

each one, a starry-night, 

blooming rainbows in their own timing, 

gently she says, 

carry fire, and let it be magnified, 

honestly/ unearth/ dreaming-sorrow, 

the ones she let die without watering, plucking and pruning. 

pour libation, give your dreams a song, 

a witnessed potential, feather -spirits, 

call the ancestors, give me remembrance.  all rights reserved Krissy Mosley©2022