Incontra

Was it all a dream,
Would I be equal to that
Flickering light upon the green?
What is this new habit
That you wear?
Will you care that my face
Shines a different colour?
We are the filaments of a
Cosmic dream,
Fireflies dancing in a night of
Streaming shadows
And sometimes the distance
Seems too great
(Yet does presence come but
In our minds?)
Still we find
Ourselves here in the flash of
Present’s grace,
To embrace or fail to…