Monday, January 14, 2019

Dreaming of Going Home

In the dream that I dream of some sort of peace
I am barefoot and on the beach in Maine
before the crowds fraught with human noises
and where I can explore the horizon alone.

In the dream I dream of lovely silence
I sequester myself with the sand
and the times between light and darkness,
neither frightened, nor fraught with distractions
and too much to do stiffening in my neck and shoulders.

Dreaming of the sea
I begin to pantomime gulls
and the waves.  No words are necessary
for this kind of love.  I dance free of my human form
and  know what it is to be like incense rising in the mist
just long enough to hear the answer to my prayers.



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