When once again we see the old, familiar
things,
The creaking gate, the sleeping cat,
The fire in the grate,
What dreams can come to ambush us by
night?
The fierce, fierce, hot sun,
The thundering smoke,
Moon upside down,
Orion on his head?
Or maybe gentler things
The almost unseen smile or tears,
Or eyes that meet in one unending gaze.