Living the Dream

I listened to a whisper
curling between chalky branches
of a winter worn tree,
and heard your voice

do not forget my gentle grasp
on soft strands of your hair

I leaned into the music of your memory,
swaying in the wind
and felt your skin brush against mine
with Creation’s caution

do not remember me with sorrow
drifting from your lips

nor allow wind or exhaustion
to bow you down

I have need of you here
where I can reach out and touch you

I will hold you firmly,
gently mending your roots
until you shall rise again,
your strength ascending

I have need of you here
inside this aching dream
where we murmur truth,
wild and surrendering under moonlight

I stood and stretched my arms
around wrinkled trunk of ancient tree
and kissed its first green leaf.

Spring holds these promises sacred,
keeping her word and mine.

Tags: Poems, Wanda Lea's Writing //