The Dream

Had a strange dream last night. I wish I had a poets hand to tell of it, but, I will try.

I couldn’t say where I was, but I walking a busy city street when I came across a dark skinned woman sitting in a chair with wheels. She was an older woman, as old as my gram, her legs were covered with a blanket and her head covered by a tattered farmers hat. As I approached her my eyes met her faded ones and it was as if I knew her all my life. I came to a stop in front of her. She toke my hand and smiled. “ I’ve been waiting”, she said. I returned her smile and mumbled an apology . She laughed at my awkwardness and squeezed my hand. I pushed her down the street, dodging people and the rocky ground. She talked the whole while and I listened to her gravelly voice.

We came to a stop near a pond and took a seat on the ground next to her, resting my head on her knee. We sat for hours, her stroking my hair and me, with my eyes closed, listening to her tales.

I felt safe, for the first time since I can remember, that I let all my guards down. I fell in love with that old lady, her laughter, her voice and her wrinkled hand in my hair.

I woke in peace, feeling refreshed and new…