driving past the silent dreams of a distant dawn
I can taste you
between the dark fissures of my dry tongue
a few bread crumbs amidst deserts of sand

when the blue chill is dripping off your morning sun
I can see you
beyond the boundless mountains of crackling darkness
amidst whose raving turbulence
the little house of my hope seems utterly lost

sailing on the salted lakes of your hidden tears
I can feel you
when your fingers plough the black dust
aggravating the windows of my room for many years now

when the soft voices of arid fields are singing
I can hear you
within the sweet redemption offered by a fresh rain
as she seeks her way through the cracks in my old roof

amidst the erupting storms of your evening red
I can smell you
within the verdant desire of wild roses
to be plucked by the seeking hands of a puzzled child

resting within the timeless dark of your foggy night
I keep longing eagerly
for the fluid turning of your secret tides
and I wish for nothing more
than to feel the gentle breathing of your flaming Heart
like a child of the wind seeks his mother
driving past the silent dreams of a distant dawn