Yes, I sang a lullaby.

In underwater syllables I sang
of things I cannot to any other.

I swam through dreamtime and came upon you,
fish out of water like me, and it seemed
you might know what to make
of spiritual earthquake,
endless quest to know more, do more, be more;
my thirst for adventure,
love, historical lore.

In surreal sea beneath this world, I moved
in zones of safety, protected from harm,

said, “Peace be also with you.”

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Back up here, where action rules,

such whispered whims of fancy,
such softer wish for grace seems

a tadpole-bit old-fashioned, and it may
muddy up life’s waters trying to read,
What kind of fish will bite?
How long will you have light?
Do you dare disturb man on your right or
just float down this river,
receiver or giver.

Here it is above water, plain as day.
 I’ve yet to write you poetry, but I

saw you in my river dream.

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