How we dream


When we forget heavy dreams,
We dance in luminous light.
In January’s sparkle,
Where crystals fell in bucketfuls
And reflected light in all directions,
Like us, gleaming, flickering,
Painting sundogs – halo around the sun.
And the young mare pulls
Her brother in bright blue sled
Deep in shimmering woods.
Follow fresh coyote tracks,
Follow deer who stamped hearts in the snow.
Then she drops the rope
Plucks icicles by handfuls:
Feed these carrots to the horse!, she instructs
But they stick to my woolen mittens,
And we make icicle music, clapping
tones of infinity.
We crack ice on winter’s creek
Where water flows freely.
And she drops the rope once more:
You be the draft horse! Pull!
And I am a wild mustang!, she dashes
Snow galaxies behind her swirling.
Feel how star dust tickles your feet!
Feel it! Just feel it!
And I feel it,
The star dust on the tip of my tongue.
This is how we dream.






About BeeHappee

Where have all the bees gone? Where have all the flowers gone?
This entry was posted in Nature, Photography, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to How we dream

  1. Walking My Path: Mindful Wanderings in Nature says:

    Beautiful Bee. I was a horse too…a lot.

  2. Hariod Brawn says:

    How perfectly exquisite and evocative – many congratulations on this work.

  3. Michael says:

    Really beautiful, Kristina. When we forget heavy dreams, we find ourselves in majestic kingdoms such as these. We become wild and pure and star-dust bitten. We recognize the geometry of vegetables in frozen things. You inspire here and show the true way… This is how we dream…


    • BeeHappee says:

      Thank you, Michael. Your wise words and incredible deep literary creations are very much helping me through this journey. Let your belief in magic and goodness forever grow.

  4. shoreacres says:

    I’m happy to see your day in images as well as words. Somewhere in my files, I have the phrase “icicle music,” too. What I was remembering when I wrote it was the sound made by rows of smaller icicles, perhaps hanging from a fence, as you make your way along, breaking them off.

    I love icicles. They always told us not to eat them, but we did. The only thing to remember was to eat the ones hanging from clean places: new and fresh!

    • BeeHappee says:

      Is there a kid out there who has not eaten icicles? 🙂 I can still remember the crunch on my teeth. Wait, maybe I need to go get some.
      The day was magic. I can only show the tiniest fraction of it in images or words. The beautiful thing was the way smallest lightest snow flurries fluttered around in the sun. And then, towards sunset, we saw a rainbow in the sky, really perhaps first time I ever noticed a really bright colorful ‘snowdog’ in winter’s sky. And then, we found a lady bug crawling on our bed last night with 10F outside. So what is not to love! 🙂

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