Spell Binder, Dream Keeper

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! πŸ˜„ As COVID continues to affect lives, both with health concerns and otherwise, I pray your holiday season is highlighted with health and happiness. πŸ’—πŸ™πŸΌ Dream a little dream, then set it free on moon-bound wings. πŸŒ• Michele

Photo 1: roses and candles, taken by me Photo 2: photo capture from Poetry Slam

Copyright Β© 2020 Michele Lee Sefton. All Rights Reserved.

28 thoughts on “Spell Binder, Dream Keeper

    1. 😁 Those must be some binding dreams! πŸ˜‚ I have many binders and have made dream boards but never dream binders. Great idea! πŸ˜† A keeper of spells? Those must be some highly sought after skills! ✨ Thank you. 😊

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    1. Thank you KD. 🌻 Many dreams are fleeting, flying away from us, never to return. This is a story about dreams seeds that leave us, but return stronger, producing hearty fruit. I know what you mean and I know that you know what I mean. πŸ˜† I appreciate your visits and comments. πŸ₯° Thank you and I wish the same for you and your family. πŸ™πŸΌ

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  1. 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.

    These are such beautiful words! I just love them.

    Also, it’s interesting that you consider yourself a detached loner. If you hadn’t written that, I would never have thought it.

    -David

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    1. Thanks for mentioning that “tumbling” sentence. I am fond of that visual too… dream thoughts floating away and landing on the moon’s scarred surface. πŸŒ• I love the juxtaposition of an ancient scarred “being” protecting and nurturing fragile dream seeds. πŸ˜‡

      You were right to never think that because I do not consider myself a detached loner. I was referring to the moon, but I do see why you interpreted it that way. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. πŸ™πŸΌπŸ˜Š

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    1. I love your word choice – meditation. Looking up to the moon and dreaming is meditative. πŸ₯° The poetry slam was fun and the organizers took care to put safety precautions in place, with an extended audience online. I will join them again in February. 😁 Thank you Ingrid.

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  2. Hey Michele, lovely post! A dream flies and it returns sometimes to us the dreamer are you ready yet!:) Love your thought process.
    The poetry slam thing is awesome. I am part of a poetry reading group, we get together on Zoom. I would love to get the virtual slam information to join.
    Hope you are well and the joy of the season is still present in your life and family!

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    1. Why, thank you! πŸ˜ƒ The poetry slam evening was a good time. We read poems to a small audience, while our readings were streamed. I will join them again in February and will share viewing details then. Your poetry reading group sounds fun too!
      The season has been relaxing and healthy. Blessings. Thank you. I wish the same for you and your family. πŸ’–

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    1. A hopeful sentence. πŸ•Š I love the rhythm and sound combination of those words – alliteration too. I still read the piece aloud, even though I did not add audio. πŸ˜‰ Thank you for noticing and commenting. πŸ’–

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  3. Some dawns I vividly remember only pieces of the story I have been enraptured in during the night. I search all day for the missing pictures and come up blank. Other days I awake to remembrance of the entire night and find myself more blind than before . . .

    Thank you for this lovely writing!

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    1. Thought-provoking, Jaya. Yes, sometimes revealed dreams or ideas lead to more questions. πŸ’«

      Thank you. I like to spend time outside early in the morning and sometimes it is so early the moon is still up. A quiet time to meditate or reflect… inspired thoughts that can lead to a poem or poetic prose. πŸ’—

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