The Edge of Everything

The dreaming I do most days now
includes a hammock
and a small cabin
where I draw my knees
to my chest,
embrace the meditation
of each moment,
and sigh
deep in a life
that guesses easily
at what stone to skip
across the imagination
toward a shore
of satisfied new vision.

It is a solid place
of earth warmed and wealthy,
where common ground
blossoms with gardens
full of flowers 
and joy is a fist
rich with abundant blossoms;
the sky discovering
the horizon
at unexpected hours
without fear
of falling
off the edge
of everything.