The Universe dreamed I was in a wooden room. All the lights were out. My eyes were well-adjusted to the dark and the fine grain of the wood shone through. The Universe checked in on me, as it did from time to time. I told it a galaxy might come and stay with me for a few days next year. The Universe said that would be fine. It would liaise with its calendar and pencil in a good date. Then it closed the door.

rooted to the spot
life grows on me
then leaves again

R.C. Thomas