The daydreamer wakes from the mid-winter’s night dream but what wakes from the daydreamer?
Once there was a butterfly. Then the son awoke and knew there was the dreaming of a butterfly.
Suddenly I wake and know this dreaming of a son. In the name of witness, son, and holy butterfly.
Look, between the witness and the butterfly, there is a fractal dimension of dreaming.
And I've been one acquainted with the scenic apparitions from Monterey to Morro Bay.
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