Wednesday, April 30, 2008

A dream is just a dream

I walked beside the leader,
A man of erudition,
Poised as if for battle
A fight for life itself:
Toward the group assembling
Right out in the open
On a gritty tarmac
In chairs of sturdy metal
Made specially for this purpose.

That's when I saw my father,
My mother marching with him,
In clean and solemn clothing,
Solemn but not somber.
His face was slightly smiling.
She looked drawn and worn,
From bearing not just children
But the burdens of his goodness,
The demands of his god.

Far away, yet very close
They looked right in my eyes.
But never did they see me.
Expectations can deny
The reality around us,
Even truth laid bare.
Closer, they came closer
Nodding to their friends,
To those for whom they cared.

I said they must not see me
So I'll go in and hide.
The leader said to sit up front
I'd be quite safe up there.
No, I want to be surprising
They don't know that I'm here.
I'll kneel down by a window
Until the coast is clear.
Then I'll reappear.

But those who were assembled
Saw me hiding there.
They pointed and made faces
And asked what are you doing?
I told them please be quiet
Pretend I wasn't where
Anyone could find me
'Cause in the open air
Is where I knew I'd die.

I wakened then, to friendly sounds -
Of neighbors, birds, the breeze.
It was, of course, just a dream
But whatever did it mean?
My parents have been gone so long
And if I saw them now
I'd never hide for a surprise
I'd run, I'd sing a song
And throw my arms around them!

That's the trouble, you know:
No matter what you think it means,
A dream is just a dream!

© 2008 by Jacob Anson.
Image copyright © 2008 by Jacob Anson and its licensors.

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