It's been years since I dreamed of heaven...
This morning, from the car window, there were two men in ponchos,
Weed whackers over their shoulders, chests bright green with safety vests and tape
Whom I saw first as two Quidditch players walking home
Grounded in the misting rain
Bleeding fantastic down the glass.
And there was a man in Starbucks who could have been my dad
Writing in a corner while the mist melted the window
Away from concrete and cars toward past and green grass.
It's been years since I dreamed.
It's been years since I dreamed without fear...
I fight the fall through darkness into the buildings
Too large, ceilings expanding into dimness, looming walls,
Upper floors shrinking to barely navigable head-height,
Every elevator or car or airplane doomed upon entry.
Awake, today, there are fables running in gutters
Like residue of dreams flushed in the sleep this weather brings.
It's been years since I dreamed the fantastic
And it bleeds, and it weeps.
Oh Chrissa this is glorious! I love the dance of hope and sadness within the lines. It does seem that life's struggles add a dimension of stress to our dreams that childhood did not carry. This is brilliantly done and a new favorite for me! 😍
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