Desert Dream
In the far-off distance
I see from my prison window
Fresh snow on the mountain
Like whipped cream
On your favorite desert
For a moment…
I think I see you standing there
All the while, knowing it could not be
What silly notions humans conjure
Often mere crumbs of leftover longing
How to balance what is and what is not
The sound of the drums carried on the cold wind
By the road I stand, waiting for the red mail truck
I hum to myself, practice the steps you showed me
Anticipate the dance
She details the future
Her dark eyes flashing by the firelight
Golden bracelets jingle
The dream was mine…mine alone
And in that second, the memory of it disappearing
Like ravens flying across the mesa
One minute they are there
The next minute gone
As I knew you were gone
All perfectly ordinary
Yet the darkness of the dream lingered
In the bright sunny day
The sound of the music floated across the mesa
Castanets clicked the rhythm
The snake slithered away, leaving his trail for you to
follow
February 24, 2018
14 comments:
Ah, how to balance what is and what is not; how to know what is real and what is not. Do we see what we think we see? Do we know what we think we know? And what are we to think when a dream that was vivid just disappears. And where does a snake go when it slithers away?
Often mere crumbs of leftover longing.. beautiful...and true!
"What silly notions humans conjure often mere crumbs of leftover longing".. this is beautifully deep and wise!💞
I love how to balance what is and what is not......and the dream disappearing like ravens flying across the mesa....so lovely.
Are such idylls of the mind a comfort or a torment? In that moment where one sees that beloved face it can be so sweet, but those crumbs of memory don't amount to a meal, and there will be hunger pangs when its all said and done.
Poignant and haunting. The mail truck, the ravens and the snake were particularly powerful images for me.
And the memories keep coming back haunting !
this is so lovely and haunting. i feel like i am on a road trip in the old west. :)
Learning to dance that dance...to learn that balance...it has been a life long journey!
I sense this strongly... especially the prison walls.
Beautiful poem!
I get so much from dreams, including poems. I love "leftover crumbs of longing and how it goes with the food thread.
Ah, which one is real, which one is the dream. Sometimes, we think that dreams are real too. I can feel the longing on this one.
How perfectly ordinary - what a powerful line - it really just brings this all together and "home." Nothing ordinary but this piece - sensitive in the longing, the hope and yet keyed in the understanding of strength in self. Gorgeous. Cheers!
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