Sometimes I have thoughts and tumultuous feelings that come off of small issues; I waste days…and with selfish passages from one district to another, I am bright-faced from comfort and lack of burden. I've known loss, but in light of Japan's tragedy, my losses remain small.

From a dream several days ago:

The Moon rose.

I remember holding silver light in my hand as I fell…

I had no memory of the thing, or things that struck me. There was wetness at the base of my head, where the neck joins the skull. I rose up slightly. All was without color…it seemed the air had a filmy whiteness to it. On my elbows now, I could hear a rumble, with the sound of explosions and screaming in the distance. There was a change in light as the sounds rolled nearer. From the direction of the roar I saw a growing blackness…

In the seconds after the surge of water lifted me up, a gigantic rafter with roof tiles still clinging to it caught the front of my right shoulder and flung my body high into the air.

I remembered the character of the sky long after I awoke from this nightmare. In this dream, a colossal mist of charcoal and vapors erased the blue of the day. In the dream my lungs burst from the forced inhalation of hot smoke and water, and my swift demise snapped me back into my conscious body...

Lying awake, there was such stillness. As my dreamy vision faded, there was  not even a whisper of an echo for the injured, the lifeless and the missing.

My love was sleeping beside me. For a precious moment we held each other tightly inside a cool, turning shroud of silver light.

In that stillness, the Moon slowly descended beyond the trees.