Sometimes a (sleeping) dream is so real & powerful
it inhabits the consciousness the duration
of the following day, and fades only gradually
each successive day, the bits and details
falling off like the last remaining leaves
on a windless November birch. Visitations
from the dead, the lost, the long-silent,
with their long-due messages and apologies,
their fragile and final farewells.
That's a little eerie, because I had two dreams like that last night, both of which "haunted" me well into the morning, ultimately resulting in a new poem that I'll be posting on RFBanjo in a little bit. Love those photos.
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ReplyDeleteGood god John! I posted this seconds ago. Eerie indeed!
ReplyDeleteI just happened to be sitting here at the ol' computer when it popped up on Google Reader.
ReplyDeleteI had a dream just before waking in which my dad was still alive but my brother had died. I pulled myself out of that dream but I had to cry for a little bit before I got out of bed.
ReplyDeleteI'm not as pathetic as that sounds.
Hazel, not pathetic at all. Human, perhaps; tender.
ReplyDeletewow! I like that. I believe dreams are visitations and forays into our deeper psyche.
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