Let us do the unthinkable thing.
We'll sit and breathe together
on the edge of our seats
in a world that pollenates and reproduces,
shape shifting and breaking into bloom.
Let us sit and breathe together
as one breath,
sit still just long enough for
each of our dreams to rise and
silently hover above us.
Dreams mingling
like old transcendent friends
floating
finally free and light
Each of our dreams
stripping away fear like
unnecessary winter layers
that obey gravity all the way to the ground,
far too heavy for the likes of us:
We, the living, on Easter Sunday.