This morning I woke
having dreamt of jasmine,
lines of poetry forming
themselves on my lips
as I opened my eyes.
 :
My love and I together
shopping for treasures–
books and plants
we could bring home
that would survive the desert heat.
I can’t remember the last time
I’ve had a good dream
I can remember upon waking.
Most nights I dream of
searching and searching
and searching
for someone I love
but I’m never
ever able to reach,
Or that a lost love
would have loved me again
if only I’d done this one thing,
Or that I’ve done the one thing
for which my love would leave me.
A miracle then
to dream in poetry
of true love
and jasmine.