I did not expect to see you, still on the scene, when I stepped out to breathe the quiet in between memories and endless possibilities. You stayed longer than I thought you would, until the last of the dancing candles disappeared under a flame-ending hood. It was worth surrendering twilight sleep to watch you glimmer and entice with your spellbinding delight. We do not speak from lips to ears, you and I. Our liberating exchange transcends this earthly plane. Under your spell and glow is where doubt ends, and my dreams begin. You listen. You are attentive. You keep them within. I have not misjudged; my budding dreams with you, a detached loner, I can trust.
These dream seedlings, who promise so much, leave me, sometimes flying faster than light. Other times they dig into my skin like a child, afraid of the night. Sometimes they are pulled from my flowing mind along with the rising tide. Other times they are coaxed from an unlocked place, deep inside. In whatever way my dreams choose to arrive and depart, I know they will find in you, my distant and gravitational connection – a place to travel to, under your watchful protection. Tumbling from a skywave they will slip through a fracture in the shadow of an ancient scar, carved by the blemishes of time, joining other hitchhikers in a nursery of unhatched fairytale rhymes.
Away from me, you must fly, my brave little dream, but never alone like the last curly green, that struggles on a sun-scorched vine, before it concedes, withers, and dies. The last of its kind, a survivor, putting up a good fight. I offer a wish, but life support I cannot give the fragile stem, when the sliver of hope reaches but falls short of its full height. Expended energy, a moment of potential when I see a pod burst, then dashed when its stunted fruit sprinkles the earth.
Scattered matter, fallen and forgotten is not your fate, my flyaway dream. You need not cling to a vine or rely on the sun, to expand and become. My keeper of dreams will shield you, beyond my reach, in his celestial soul, in his cradle of earth-tethered love, until you are ready to blossom into a hearty and stunning one.
Return to me, you will, when the time is right, when your glowing path toward a fruitful start has aligned. I might not recognize you, my released dream, when you return to the one who set you free. I may feel a hint of a memory, or a familiar whisper from a gentle breeze. I may think you are new, having just arrived – a flash of brilliance transported on a wing or by a lightning strike. You will know the truth, that from me, you once flew, before you were nurtured by the spellbinding moon.
Last week I participated in an underground poetry slam. I had a fun time reading a few poems, including one from my soon-to-be-published Being a Woman – Forthcoming Poetry Collection. I joined other poets who read to a live socially-distant audience and an interactive virtual audience. I look forward to joining them again in 2021! 😄 As COVID continues to affect lives, both with health concerns and otherwise, I pray your holiday season is highlighted with health and happiness. 💗🙏🏼 Dream a little dream, then set it free on moon-bound wings. 🌕 Michele
Photo 1: roses and candles, taken by me Photo 2: photo capture from Poetry Slam
© 2020 Michele Lee Sefton.