Dream

I scurried up the steps

towards home, counting them

thinking you'd appear as

a queen of the night at the rising of the

moon

when the sand blushes with pleasure

cool, after so many ardors of the

day

I see you running through sands of

tale, casting yourself into waves that

only you command

The stories from the

night, which keep you hidden, become clear

from a passing eye

the thought that you'll appear as a queen circles

the nights, I lean on it

embracing the melancholy that feels you

alive once more.

Fr. Cristian Muntean

Watercolor by Horia Țigănuș

From the volume "The Color of the Day – poetic journal", Creator Publishing House, 2025