The day started in darkness—
The type our dreams come wrapped in
Yes, our dreams—
Butterflies, smoke, breath
Escaping back into us
Just as we remember their names
Come nine A.M., the sun won its battle
With the clouds and rain
Again, light prevails over darkness
Again, my dreams give way
To the dreamer
To the sun, the light it brings
The darkness is not a bad thing
Nor the clouds and rain
All parts of us—
Reflections in the mirror
Appearing on the soul’s still surface—
That place where all are one
Poetic Alchemist 