Rawr!

you know that place between sleep and awake,
the place where you can still remember dreaming?

There I am a surgeon with hands as steady as
her heart. Who dances in grid-locked traffic
and sings to rhythm of the blender mixing
her morning smoothie. Or a hippie with blonde
dread locks and hemp skirts. Who shops in
organic grocery stores and second hand shops
and dreams of finding a man without body
odor or morning wood.

Sometimes i am even a kyte, flying high
above the ocean and screeching a nonchalant
melody at the storm clouds building behind my
wings. Once i was a tiger, moving unseens through
the jungle. Stalking, creeping, searching and
finally pouncing! On her two beautiful cubs
playing silently in a clearing.

But here, in the woken world I am but a girl
of tangents and obtuse angles, struggling
against the winds of change.