Winter, Week 3: Dreams in the Sleeping House

​Cynthia Reeves, “Floating Form,” 1978. Like the dreams of a baby in the womb.

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rain now, snow later
the house curls around itself
dreaming of fire

If there were dreams to sell
What would you buy?
—Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Here we are all, by day; by night we are hurled
By dreames, each one, into a sev'rall world.
—Robert Herrick

serenity
the shadow in the light
like blue smoke
—Philippe Jaccottet

winter dawn
the cold car
idles in its smoke

winter morning
by the road
the dead possum smokes

Stand in the fire of the present moment, just as you are, receiving it just as it is, as whatever kind of grace it may...be.—Adam S. Miller

Fire ... links the small to the great, the hearth to the volcano, the life of a log to the life of a world.—Gaston Bachelard

in love at last
she throws a pine knot
into the fire

Winter is a simplifier.
Cold and dark
do the work of fire.