Tag: dream

Friendly Girl (day 2105)

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What have I become?
Rough rebellious edges
Carrying on in a dream I’ve surely built
Commonly misunderstood
In spite my lessons in patience
And I’m just looking for a friendly girl
Who enjoys the music I play every day.

No, not one to judge racially
Not one to define boundaries
Not one to mistreat, mistrust
I share in this mighty earth
Respecting green miracle of growth
And I’m just looking for a friendly girl
Who enjoys all the seeds that I sow.

What have I become?
Rough rebellious edges
Carrying on in a dream I’ve surely built
Commonly misunderstood
In spite my lessons in patience
And I’m just looking for a friendly girl
Who enjoys the music I play every day.

Looking back it’s not easy
Had my heart on the line
Had too many unwritten songs
Yet nothing’ll stop me
My drive is what makes me
And I’m just looking for a friendly girl
Who enjoys going for a ride.

What have I become?
Rough rebellious edges
Carrying on in a dream I’ve surely built
Commonly misunderstood
In spite my lessons in patience
And I’m just looking for a friendly girl
Who enjoys the music I play every day.

My Little Layers (day 2095)

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I was waiting for a dream
I had sent off in the mail
A letter to my name
That sadly never came.

But in all my little layers
I had followed to the sea
I waited for a crest
A wave upon my chest.

So there I sat atop the cliff
A bucket in my soul
Catching all the ether
Never held again by her.

I lifted up my downcast eyes
Horizon on my mind
A songbird came and sang to me
Carried me far off, out to sea.

Edge of Tomorrow (day 2059)

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On the edge of tomorrow
I am a factory worker
I wear what’s given to me
And I smile when prompted.

On the edge of tomorrow
I’ve never dared to dream
Of a wild outback
Where animals run free.

On the edge of tomorrow
I have left all my reason
With a command of salutations
And two badges of compliance.

On the edge of tomorrow
My routines are commands
My strategy is an order
And I die for a code.

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXXXIX (day 2043)

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(part XXXXXXVIII)

For three days we hunted
And for three days we found nothing
That would serve as any kind of sustenance
We of course found plenty of squirrels
And small birds to feed us
But deer, elk, buffalo, moose…
Nothing.

I woke up on the morning of the fourth day
Feeling like I had been charged with bolt of lightening
Awake from a dream that had left me silent all morning
As we packed up and prepared to break camp
Moon Cow came over and looked at my arrows
And asked if I was alright
I said yes, I’ve never felt better
And he asked about my dream
Moon Cow always had a sense about these kind of things
I think that’s part of the medicine man in him.

“When I was young
My mother used to come into my room
In the early hours of the day
And tell me that my father had just left again
She would cry to me
And I was..
Hardly able to understand what that meant
But her crying
Would alert me, and wake me up
And I would feel like I had to protect her
I was responsible for her
An assumed set of duties
That charged me with purpose
You should have seen me
Walking down the street
With two cents in my pocket
Going to buy the daily bread and a paper for mom
I’d say hi to all the folks I knew
And they’d smile back at me
Knowing and seeing the determination in my eyes
The responsibility I had in my shoes
They knew my father
Some would even stuff a nickle
Into my well worn pockets
I’d smile and say: ‘thank you m’am’
And charge off on my way
When I’d return home
Mother would be waiting with a broom
For the paper to devour
With the hopes she would find something better
For herself and me, I guess
In my dream I remembered my determination
For a better tomorrow
The perseverance that was required of me
I feel it now
And it makes me think about the future.

part XXXXXXX

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXIII (day 2007)

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(part XXXII)

I woke with a start
As I heard the calling from within my dream
I knew something wasn’t right
And I looked for Lily and she was gone
The teepee door flapped lightly
In the dark summer night’s breeze
I grabbed my hatchet and stepped outside
Stars were out and the moon was shining
Waxing crescent – energy building.

My eyes adjusted and I listened
I didn’t hear another call
But I started walking along the ridge
Leaving the encampment behind
I walked for a while silently
In my moccasins Willow had made for me
With little beads Lily had threaded in
And thought of their faces
When they presented them to me.

I saw her standing on the other side of the clearing
Facing into the darker woods
That loomed in front of her
I couldn’t tell if she was in a trance
Or had been led there
But I didn’t want to scare her by coming up silently
Nor did I want to alert whatever demon
Should there be one at her mind.

I kept the hatchet in my hand as I approached
Watching the darkness for the spirit
And Lily turned around and looked at me
It was Lily in body, but in spirit it was not Lily
I clicked my fingers
Like I had been showing her how to recently
Then made the bird call she had made me practice
She had said if there’s ever an emergency
Make that call and her bluejay spirit
Will come to me.

I called again
And clicked again
And she shook her head
Like she was waving off a thought
And looked at me curiously
A bit confused
And asked: “Joe?”

When we returned to our teepee
Willow was boiling some peppermint tea
As we sipped the warm tea
Willow told me the story
Of the first time this happened
And what the medicine man had said
In my experience I had seen this before, too
I had learned in boarding school
That some kids sleep walked
Without knowing they sleep walked
Like peeing the bed
Something that one just comes to understand.

part XXXIV

I Am Not Sorry (day 1974)

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Your choice is my misunderstanding
And for that I am sorry
Your past experience is my current overstepping
And for that I am sorry
Your love is my overwhelming
And for that I am sorry
Your human is my object of admiration
And for that I am sorry
Your patience is my forever questioning
And for that I am sorry
Your vision is my deep desiring
And for that I am sorry
Your time is forever my story
And for that I am sorry
Your absence is my sit and worry
And for that I am sorry
Your journey is my wildest dream
And for that I am sorry
Your heartbeat is my symphony
And for that I am sorry
Your light steps is my pitter-patter
And for that I am sorry
Your sleeping lips are my favorite dream
And for that I am sorry
Your calmest question is my quickest help
And for that I am sorry
Your silence is my sentence
And for that I am sorry

But my love, no, for my love
Which I will not delay
For that I am not sorry

Megalith (day 1960)

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I could write out the sounds of a thousand butterflies,
Or hooves of ten blazing stallions;
I could impress the weight of three falling leaves,
Or hardness of one megalith;
I could fall to your feet in Roman respect,
Or your arrow you’ve sent on the run;
I could find every fruit in the garden of Autumn,
Or a reason to look far away;
I could let a simple dream drift off like a wish
But I’ll never let your heart away.