Dreamer
Dreamer
I dreamt last night
I dreamt I had stitched fresh white sheets to the top of my shoulder as I slept
An inch of small neat stitches
I tried to squeeze each one out of my skin
To coax it lose so as not to get blood on the pristine white fabric
I dreamt that my teacher told me he longed for love
But that he was wedded to his work
His wild Muse was too jealous to let him go
The old guard are falling, there is much to be done
I dreamt I was a tempest rushing across an ocean
Feral sea spray joining with me, weighing me down
When I reached land the release of rain
Was as sweet as a babe that has slept too long suckling my breast
I dreamt of my friend sat on a mountain side
A skeletal old broadleaf tree asleep for the winter as his only companion
He had sat there alone for too long
Taking root in the land, both wise and unmoving
I dreamt of ancient Celtic poetry so exquisite
It drove me in pursuit of ghosts of bards
On long forgotten paths through empty, wind swept wilderness
In hope of hearing it recited
I dreamt last night, on and on I dreamt