Three dreams

Three dreams

 

I dreamt I was a line, a thin line,

a wire stretching in a vaulted room

with brass weights that needed to be balanced

my chin and ankles and the turning

of my torso pulled the

wire and it sprung and I was lifted

from the bottom of my gut

to the very stars of that ancient chamber

I remember wishing before I was an owl

I used to wish that I was an owl

owls did not have to go to school

and I had dreams where I sat

in trees in front of the moon

dreams where I have

worked out how to fly.

It is easy it has always been

easy

and others where I can

run with great gliding strides that

swallow the ground that grab

it to them and throw it

behind, sailing off through

open

air

like hands tugging rope, hand

following hand following hand

I touch the ground only just

enough

to spring off again

And sometimes I can

jump

and float, going forwards I bend

my knees in the air and decide

not to land,

propelled by the small of my back.

I jump, jump, jump, jump

I hold it there, I hold the air there around me

and move through it

Sometimes I go forwards and sometimes

up

in huge arcs

I come down

The wire begins and ends and always

is seeking its middle

the balancing weights stretch it

and the great domed roof holds

arcing the wire to it

awake, the cold clamminess

of sheets clings

with night’s fevered sweats.