Not A Dream But

Posted in something different by maggie on 2012/02/03

This morning I dreamed of my baby child
and how delightfully he laughed and played
and how that he had been born withered
and crippled in both legs and both arms
and how that he would never walk or hold
but how delightfully he did laugh and play
and was carried and held and kissed and loved.

And I dreamed how that one of my old friends
wondered aloud at how small were his arms
and how withered and limp hung his wee legs
and we had to name his condition for her
and she faded back from him into shadow
as though to hold him might touch her.

But I dreamed how that his father came home
and I dreamed how that my baby child laughed
and bounced on him and played with him
and melted away the gray dust of his war
and his father loved him and would not let go.

Then I woke from my dreaming and told it so
and my host saw the tear never leave my eye
and she told me, "Peace, it was only a dream,
not a poem." But it felt it could have been.

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4 Responses

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  1. clarioretenebris said, on 2012/02/03 at 08:38

    Precious Pearl! Your darling baby will be known not by how far he goes, although he will travel as much as you have, and your sweet child will be known not by how much he possesses, although all that he wishes will be his, but he will be known for the pure joy and understanding he brings to his family and friends and all the others who will but need to touch him to be infected with his love. Much more real than any dream come true, far more creative than any poem breathed aloud!

  2. Maggie said, on 2012/02/03 at 09:03

    Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, such power in this.

    • maggie said, on 2012/02/03 at 09:33

      TOOM! Thank you. I only wish I could convey how beautiful he was (will be). Words fail the dream, as dream barely touches how he touches me inside.

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