I’ve dreamed of you…
At first, the joy of freedom; and then
the sorrow for the grief you brought segued into
a smile, a nod, a shake of your head
to speak much more than words allow.
Always silent, yet I understood your conflict,
the push and the pull of wanting
to be here and there all at once.
Time, that human construct, is nothing.
A way to measure the span between
then and now; between
you breathing your first and
sighing your last; the span that
doesn’t measure in tears but in
click-ticks on a numbered face that become
hours in a day and days in a week,
weeks in months and years; in decades and centuries.
The sun’s path across the sky, chased
by Mother moon.
I dreamed of you…
They brought you to me, not your infant self
swaddled and seeking points of reference in your new world; but
fully grown, the man you were when you left.
You smiled at me. I wept my joy and
you held out your arms. You held me against your great chest,
in those strong arms heavy on my shoulders. My ear
pressed and listening for the heartbeat
once a whooshing jump-rope sound; once
a steady thump to reassure me through
the darkest of the dark.
There was only your weight,
your solidity, your smile. My trembling joy.
“Can you stay?” I asked. “Will they let you?”
“Yes, I think so.” But you shook your head, your smile saddened.
You stepped away, back into my brain wishing or the conduit
breaking; the connection unexplained, undiscovered
except in dreaming. The first contact in the span
measured only in tears.
4 responses to “First Contact”
Beautiful, emotional, and so loving!
Thanks, love. ❤
❤ Oh, my that was beautiful. Hugs.
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