The philosophers say that all we are,

and everything around us,

is a dream

there is nothing but what rests

in the mind.

and if I am a dream,

I would be the late afternoon sun

on the path,

and the morning sun,

hitting the old red barns,

and the dead leaves whistling

on the ground,

and the hawk crying out in the sky

and the dogs sniffing on the path

and the truth,

swirling through the treetops

and the spark,

that lights the heart

and fills the soul,

with hope.