Dreaming Forth A World

It was very early morning  
even before the first bird was heard to sing  
the sun still some distance from making an appearance  
and the edaphon busy, busy, busy.  
  
Love shone a light, announcing readiness.  
Dark sat comfortably, contemplating a possibility of dawn  
and I lay awake in a new kind of hope  
the scope of which was limited only by the first bounce of a skimmed stone.  
   
A fisherman’s fly dropped down a mine-shaft waiting to be heard by keen ears  
as the spread of opportunity bore twins  
and I wanted to know what could genuinely be called ‘real’ -  
so closed my eyes again to dream forth some more.  
   
When dawn actually arrived two hours later  
my mind was jolted by a list of things to do  
as the fisherman’s fly was snapped up by a scavenging earth-salmon  
which tugged the line as a means of distraction  
   
but since the skimming stone had yet to hit the water a second time  
I said “No, I’ll risk flying through the air in search of satisfaction …