In My Dream, Father Is Defined by the Taste of Hills In my dream, father is defined By the taste of hills A lonely figure taken in by dark Earth, wordless, unmoving My childhood goes by softly Like little girls’ secret talk Under warm cotton clouds That little girl with rivers Floating in her eyes Saw a giant white bird Half phenix hald eagle Winging down toward my silent Father, to take the remaining Words out of his mouth In my dream, childhood is defined By the taste of bitterness The sad house with sad Furniture and sad relatives Rearranging their sad lives The girl reads the message On the bitter wind What’s lost in the past life Has found its way back In my dream, love is defined By the taste of memory Great fire born out of Giant white wings We are no longer afraid of What may hurt us Or how strong the wind and water Will hit our father’s presence He remains undisturbed Unmoved like a nameless rock :4/24/05