In sleep I wandered, veiled in dream’s domain,
Where visions rise from shadows soft and deep,
And whispered truths break through the darkened plain.
Alone she shone, her form a flawless flame,
No groom beside her, yet no void was near—
She seemed enthroned within her rightful frame.
Her son stood close, half hidden in the rear,
She raised one hand aloft as if to rise,
The other downward cast, serene and clear.
So stunning was she, sovereign in her guise,
Each pose a law of grace, each glance a crown,
As if the stars were mirrored in her eyes.
No choir sang, no witness wrote it down,
Yet in her silence shone a holier room,
Where loss and promise wove their equal gown.
And all these little signs, so pure, so given,
My father’s pride I glimpsed—once veiled, now clear—
A love unspoken, yet at last was risen.
How I have missed him, how I long to hear
His voice rejoice, his words proclaim my name,
And crown my steps with pride sincere.
At dawn I woke, and at the clock of doom
Four pillars gleamed—eleven stood with eleven—
A fleeting gate between the Now and Bloom.
The synchronicities, the winks that steer,
The quiet nods from heaven’s secret core,
Make all the fleeting shadows disappear.
They warm my heart, and set my spirit to soar,
A tingling fire, as if through gates I’ve flown,
Where hope is sown, and confidence restores.
All these, right as I build what I was meant:
My business born, my crest upon my hand,
My strength returning, fearless, confident.