a call
have you ever heard a lonely morning dove call for her mate through an empty sky?
it is the saddest sound in the world
when there is no reply
Protected: when i think of you
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Protected: find me please
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Protected: give me soft words and kind thoughts, please
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escape
dreams are necessary creatures…
they help you escape (regardless of how briefly) what is
and they are the kindest gift you could ever share
learning to dream
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you’re fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep ~Cinderella
there have been several times in my life where i have been a doubter of dreams. i had difficulty for some time actually summoning my imagination to dream…that world of fantasy seemed so far removed from the realities of my day-to-day survival mode that i couldnt even pop a quick happy image of in my head without it being overtaken by darkness.
(no matter what i did to distract my mind from reality…list-making, solving equations, reciting prime numbers…the darkness inevitably seeped through until i found myself taking on more tasks so that i wouldnt have to sleep and face those dark corners of life)
but someone came into my life a few years back and taught me the power of dreaming. he conditioned me, with simple words and images, how to block-out the scary demons in life
(saved me so many more times than he realized with a calm walk on a breezy beach…and the imagined sensation of a strong hand holding mine.)
his images saved me so many times through unbearable ordeals and frightening locations…and when my dreams would sometimes take a dark turn…he would help me pull the sweetness back
from him i learned how to dream again…from him i learned how to hope…from him i learned how to love (and love life)
and when my dreams would take me down childish frontiers (imagining a daughter well before i could walk or talk) he didnt mock or belittle
i was on training wheels…in a skill, that still can help me escape
~the loneliness…i’m not a city dweller and there are some times when this apartment reminds me of the one on Goodman…no lock and in need of repairs…but it’s ok…it’s not a hospital so it’s ok
~the bruises (i dont think he meant to leave the bruise though…his girl surprised him and he misinterpreted my walking out…thought he needed to explain…people automatically assume there’s anger and fits when you become silent or when you turn away…he didnt mean to grab so hard or rip my blouse…it’s ok…it hides with makeup…he didnt mean to)
~and scary thoughts…and memories
he taught me how to dream…and though i’m not supposed to say his name or think of him anymore
i am grateful
for in learning to dream
he made me feel for a few precious months
that i was more than i am
(and that was a very nice place to escape to)
a dream is a wish your heart makes 