MILK AND HONEY

In my dream there was a land flowing with milk and honey.

I saw a mellow orange ball in the sky, melting, dropping warmth in the white river beneath.

A breeze of tenderness caressed my skin.

Within, pieces of sorrow disappeared and my soul faded into peace.

In my dream there was a land flowing with milk and honey.

I walked on its soil and my feet became one with it, growing roots as thick as bristlecone pine.

Hundreds of branches grew from out of my spine, until they touched the sky.

In my dream there was a land flowing with milk and honey.

And there was I, in between earth and heaven.

In the midst of the desert, under sweet honey rays of light, next to calm milky waves which fed my bones the way a mammal feeds its young.

In my dream there was a land flowing with milk and honey.

Where people spoke in the language of kindness.

They drank from the river and ate from the light.

They shared chocolates and laughter and danced until night.

In my dream there was a land flowing with milk and honey.

There was a bridge above the river, connecting people from all sides.

I watched them fall into each others arms, connecting branches until the desert turned into a forest.

And when I woke up, I drank a glass of milk with honey.