POETRY: Dream State

Fingertips burning
you wake suspended
clinging
the tiled floor swaying
precariously
below . . .

what’s up is down,
what’s in is out,
what’s near is far.
Perspective lost,

you watch it all shift—
swirling, dizzy, as
someone
saunters carelessly
across the ceiling
above.

Look, it isn’t far.
relax, breathe deeply,
have faith—
this rearrangement
is necessary,
destined,
deliberate and
predetermined for
us all.

Shake it off, then act
with purpose, and not
from fear.
Grounding
is relative to
where we find ourselves.