I imagine a reality made of feathers
and in this, it all flies away—
the worries, the stresses,
the trivial endeavours—
an avian realm
where nothing heavier can stay.

I am with the contentment
that a dog must find in the summer,
carelessly curled
in a fog of warm August light—a slumber
almost embryonic
to a world uncharted
and a life untouched—
censored from such
explicit monologue, over-worn.

I exist in the peace
of blackness, unborn
and dream as does the dog
under the abandoning sun.

© Joseph Chin
#summer #mentalhealth #mindfulness #dream #dreams