Rooftop Mirador

Up here above the streets,
my spirits lift from daily grief.
Blossoming green as any garden
are treetops level with my eye.
Nothing impedes the breeze up here,
blowing kisses to birds and me.

Up here there is no time,
but underneath the trees, below,
my mother’s diagnosed with Covid.
The camp in Greece for refugees is burning.
So many children are empty with hunger.
The world is too bright for my eyes.

When I am ready to descend
and enter again, the other dream,
I bring the wind and its kisses,
I bring the green of treetops,
I bring my resting in the clouds.
I find my way to widened love.

©Susa Silvermarie 2020