dream deep

Give me, if you can, this multitude of the simple things. A little place by the sea, grey sky and grey clouds, birds  to be my company and to hold my court for me. No riches for me, however grand and eloquent, no palace with a hundred rooms and gardens with fields and fields of roses. Give me, if you will, the fairness of silence. Simple sounds will be my holding, waves on the pebbles, foam on the rocks, the scuttling of the littlest of creatures. Good, hard wood my floor, softest rain my sky; give me that, if you will. An existence in the corner of the world away from the pale voices of different, complicated things. I sigh and sigh, would that I were there this moment, to the gulls and the showering of the stars in that quiet sky.