Come. Dream with me.

It is the dawn.
The rising sun clothed itself in the mantle of a heron.
The lake below is already golden.

Darkness, like a warm blanket.
But why is it dark?
And we have ways to go, still…

Stars twinkle above.
Time is ticking backwards.
I understand now.

Falling stars, a whisper of wings.
Sky is water, water is time, time is sky.

Why do I keep coming back here?
Maybe for the same reason the herons always come back...

A shiny golden coin to take from the sky.
A drop of water falling on the surface of the lake.
A stark space rock pulling at the tides…

Them, above, flying towards the dawn.
Us, below, walking into the night.

Stars, watching us from above.
Same, but different.
As are we.

Quiet. Quieter still.

The sun is setting.
A sentinel of the waning day.
Nightfall.