Dream Sequence
(This poem, written at 2:00 this morning, is still under construction…)
Sometimes in the depth of night
I stumble through the briar thickets of my dreams
and emerge, disoriented and disconnected,
pulling shreds of tangled images from my hair,
uncertain through which door I have emerged,
where exactly I was, what I was doing there.
My fingers seek an answer across the rumpled bed clothes
and just the curve of your back, strength of your hip
is enough to remind me where I am, and why.
I stumble through the briar thickets of my dreams
and emerge, disoriented and disconnected,
pulling shreds of tangled images from my hair,
uncertain through which door I have emerged,
where exactly I was, what I was doing there.
My fingers seek an answer across the rumpled bed clothes
and just the curve of your back, strength of your hip
is enough to remind me where I am, and why.
Other nights the waters run cold and deep
and I suffer the rip-tide of my subconscious,
battered and tossed through different dimensions,
twisting, so far under I think I will never surface
only to find myself spat from the angry waves
onto the unshifting rock of your embrace.
My fingertips still grasp your shirt for fear of being pulled back under by the receding wave,
my mouth gasping for precious oxygen of reconnection.
Arms around me, you wipe the water from my trembling skin,
breathe into my starving lungs, “Shhh… I’m here, it’s OK…”
and I suffer the rip-tide of my subconscious,
battered and tossed through different dimensions,
twisting, so far under I think I will never surface
only to find myself spat from the angry waves
onto the unshifting rock of your embrace.
My fingertips still grasp your shirt for fear of being pulled back under by the receding wave,
my mouth gasping for precious oxygen of reconnection.
Arms around me, you wipe the water from my trembling skin,
breathe into my starving lungs, “Shhh… I’m here, it’s OK…”
and then… it is.
Tracy Meisky is a poet, writer, singer, songwriter and all-around boat rocker from way back. Feel free to look around, but if you break it, you bought it.