A Dream -- Wednesday 7 October

I'm dancing with the embers of Mars, twirling in a sky ablaze with purpose beyond my comprehension. I'm that restless child chasing summer '65 sunsets, but here, they're within reach, clutched in the hands of a monk who whispers melodies through his silence. His rhythm is mine, our hearts beat in sync, like two drums echoing each other's pulse. I feel the sand of memories slipping through my fingers, but now it's warm, like the first sip of Earl Grey on a crisp autumn morning, the sun setting on Mars, and the dawn breaking here.