i dream of magnificent light
pouring through colored windows,
spraying the room with beams
from another world. three children
approach a small table and peer
into a book with moving pictures.
a dragon. then a bear whose strange eyes
can see the future. a cloudy sky with rain
falling on the horizon. after a few
minutes transfixed by the pages,
an old man with one arm enters,
smiles, whispers inaudible words,
and the children become birds that twirl
higher as the stone vault transforms
into an endless springtime sky.


* From Awaiting the Images

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