In the dream, I rest under the red-streaked flower petals,
lean hard against the wooly stem, gulping air, out of breath.
The palms of my hands press deep, leaving imprints
in the sugary sap. A dahlia forest. And I am ant-sized
and suddenly outnumbered by a cloud of gray-headed
grasshoppers. Sap from the stem drips on me, thin and
opaque like school glue. The stem is a vertical rope
and I ascend, slide between the shivery-cool sheets.
A ragged grasshopper leaps high, plucking the lowest petals,
shredding them into flower confetti which falls to the earth.
I climb deeper into the flower as more grasshoppers
dance in wild catapults, flinging me about. The petals tremble.
And it’s a dream, yes, so as I spill out of the petals,
the roar of a lion frightens away the grasshoppers
and I awake, perplexed, then laugh amused,
as the cat’s tail flicks my face and he leaps from my bed.
~~~~~~~~~~
Bo Mackison is photographer, book-maker, collector of stories, naturalist, curator and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Apparently I have wild dreams about miniature flora while under the influence of pain medication. Hmmm. Hoping to get back on track soon.