In the image of a dream
 

Out of the dark came a stranger I thought I knew

In his hand a dead bird. He asked what he might

Do with it and I said 'Get rid of it.' In a flash he

Had it wrapped in bright aluminium foil and again

He asked what he should do with it and again I

Replied 'Get rid of it' and to this end he did so

With the aid of his boot kicking it across the

Dusty earth until he and the unfortunate article

Disappeared from sight

When I woke I found myself still in a dream. A

Dream from which I could not escape nor could

I go back even by a second to put things right

That sorely needed my attention. Life I discovered

Is in the image of a dream. Yes, vivacity, intensity

And effervescence are all there but as in a dream

There are times when no matter how hard one tries

There is no changing a thing, what has come to pass

Is forever and beyond human erasure, intervention

Or correction

The following night I dreamt again and there again

Stood the stranger I thought I knew. This time in

His hand a heart. He asked me what he might do

With it and I said 'Get rid of it.' In a flash he had it

Wrapped in bright aluminium foil and again he asked

What he should do with it and again I replied 'Get rid

Of it' and to this end he dropped it to earth and

Kicked it far into the distance. 'Whose heart was

That?' I enquired – 'better you don't ask' replied

The stranger. 'But as you have, the bird was love

The heart was yours'
 

©Joseph G Dawson
13/11/2016