if i could freeze
all your worries
in a single teardrop
of early morning dew,
so it disappears
in sparkling anonymity,

and perhaps
the whole lot
whisked away
by early dawn’s
last tendrils
of cool zephyrs
when touched by
blissfully peeking
warmth of sunlight,

then i could,

perhaps,

soothe your
psychic ravines,
into gently rolling
fields of cogon,
swaying in the breeze
with an invitation
to breathe freely.

To breathe deeply
of what has been here
before us and before
our equally-as-stooped ancestors,
since time-awakened,
thrumming with an age-old rhythm
that intertwined,
with all sapient,
and ancient,
weaves and dances.

if only for a moment,
then that dream-spurred
frown fade
and unaccustomed smile
light up,
in the midst of our
warm nest of
yesterday’s laundry and
converted sofa cushions,
complete with our children
in different
derring-do pantomines
of drowsing adventure,

and dream softly.