Friday, 4 January 2013

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.  

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My photo
Writtle/Castelló de la Plana, Essex/Valencia