Last night I dreamt about you.
Footprints in the summer dust.
A voice of waves that leaped in time,
a star that shined brightly in the Xinxiang sky.

The dream was brief, always the same distance apart.
And yet, an intimate gift of silence that we knew.

The essence of the dream, dark clouds brooding.
A tiny breeze of purpose and mood.
And yet how still this landscape stands
in placid tones and minds of endless sleep.