When I dream in my next life

GiantMirror

Sometimes in dreams

I have tea with a sweet Russian lady.

We sit in our cottage

at our little table

between the open door and window.

The ever fresh days,

white, blue, and yellow,

rush in and around us

with the children.

 

She was once my wife,

and this cottage and these children were ours.

We meet here

so we can remember, reminisce,

 

relive that lifetime, feeling

all it’s moments at once,

folded into this place

forever

in time between all times,

resonating even through the fog

of a new life.

 

I wake up crying.

There’s never enough time.

 

I lay wondering who she is now.

Could we recognize each other awake?

 

When I dream in my next life,

I hope I’ll visit this one I live now.

I hope I can sit with Mom and Dad and John,

and hold Lady and Penny while they bark and lick my face

like I just got home.

I hope I’ll read again with the children I taught in my classroom.

 

When I dream in my next life,

I hope I’ll visit this one I live now.

It was a good one.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *