FOR THOSE WHO WHISPER
I turn once for those who whisper
Softly and tug my sleeve,
Attention sweet coating
On glances free and
Kisses blown gently.
I turn twice for those who whisper
Alone in their dark corner,
Comfort warming smiles extended,
Offers of friendship
Lighten the gloom.
I turn back for myself left behind,
Swept away by the
Pressing, needy crowd.
Embracing, we sink to the ground
And weep for all.
I’m reading The Three “Only” Things: Tapping the Power of Dreams, Coincidence, and Imagination by Robert Moss. He talks about using dreams to reclaim parts of yourself that you’ve left behind, perhaps in childhood or during other emotional times in your life. It reminded me of this poem I had written years ago. Most of my dreams as an adult take place in my childhood home. That house or its street is the setting for everything. It morphs as needed, but it’s always that place. Whether or not I’ve left parts of myself behind, I do think I’ve tethered myself there somehow. Maybe paying more attention to those dreams would give me clues that I could use to make this life a better one.