Día de Muertos Dreaming

It seems like a dream,
over in a flash of years
My life a fantasy dreamed up.
I want to go back to sleep and keep it going
But it’s done done done
for this time around, a finished one.
I want to muse on the dream
before waking all the way up
to knowing I’m among the dead.

It seems like a dream.
The smalltown childhood scene,
American midwest the 50’s.
The young adult choices, ha,
the mistakes and foolishness!
Growing up with the son, that beautiful boy.
learning everything from being a parent.
The loves and passions,
the circles of women in ceremony, ah.
The children who taught me in classrooms,
the elders who taught me in nursing homes.
Poetry, the love that took me by the hand
and led me through the rest.

All woken from,
all misted away
to where it is dreams go.
A good life it was,
zippy and zesty,
mostly  bright with something new
calling me forward.
While it lasted, a long dream,
with crazy detours that only
happen in a dream,
and gorgeous metaphors
showing up each day.
The good green earth,
such a lovely setting for a dream,

In my dream of a life,
there was day and night, for decades.
There were plants that smelled like heaven.
Some I could climb
and love from a perch.
In this dream there were bodies
that touched and hugged and laughed.
I played on the physical plane
but in a flash of years it was done done done.
I want to muse before
I wake up all the way;
before I stroll, without a body,
to the quantum field of dreams,
where I’ll make my next
selection.

©Susa Silvermarie 2019

 

 

 

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