You awake, tossing off sleep,
stirring the covers into misshapen objects.
You recreate and gather to the surface
the image of a building, a tall structure,
solid, thick walls, a place to gather.
The thoughts grow and then recede on
the vapors of your dreams.
Looking closer there is cracking in the foundation.
Small fractures, but the kind that increase when
not watching.
You bend down examining the faults, rubbing you
fingers over the uneven surface; you are anxious
to repair.
Suddenly someone tells you stop evaluating
the damage. Startled, you realize the foundation is you,
undergoing a constant repairing process of growth,
expansion and creating.
The image fades until sleep rebuilds the dream.
