I dreamed of a work of black lines, of yellow, of red shapes. I dreamed Kandinsky’s Structure Joyeuse.

I dreamed of a great tree, its branches chopped. I planted a red seed.

I wrote an ode to yellow bells, to the esperanza in a chicken-wire cage. The joke on the jailer: Hope springs free as a jack rabbit.

To be effective in self-defense, he said, when the mind is active, one must keep the body still. When the body is active, the mind must be still.

Suffering results from action with an unquiet mind.

I see a beehive of light, like the reflector/refractor lens in a light house, each small segment magnifying the source, together a great beam of light.

I dreamed a single word: Peace