In my dreams
I wander
beneath the winter sun
where zebras and lions laze
and wait for the silence
beneath the southern cross
In my waking
I watch the insanity
and remember the beauty
the people
the land
the world
beneath the southern cross
romanticizing
the mere hours spent in the wonder
but knowing some of the reality too
I wonder as I wonder
what else lies
beneath the southern cross

author: April Wells
published 8/31/16