All of my dreams begin in memory.
My hair being pulled by the stars.
My footprints asking to be heard.
My hands holding sunflowers whispering something to me about the art of receiving.
My dreams begin in memory and suddenly I am dancing to the edge of the world.
Inhaling salt.
Learning about waves.
Taking my clothes off to meet the earth only to find that my shoulder blades are wings designed to speak to birds.
All of my dreams begin in memory.
My restless hands settle.
I begin to hold onto rocks and poems and pieces of me that once seemed foreign to me.
I say hello to me and water the seeds inside of me that ask to bloom not for me but for my ancestors that came before me.
I spread my fingers wide sending signals about being ready to receive.
All of my dreams begin in memory.
Greeting me back to me.
Handing me buckets of salt and bundles of sunflowers
Enough to toss into someone else's dream that begins in memory.