A wildflower asked me _"How does a man dream?
_ More than just asked. She said “Tell me. Tell me.”
Dear wildflower, I cannot tell you how a man who moves from space to space, on a chessboard of love’s behavior, dreams of his victories; or what his Queen means to his loosing dreams.
I can share how a dreaming-here-always man dreams.
As alone as tomorrows may cast the dawn in light of no love now. As a complete fool in the highest lovable value of air still breathable every moment the sky is still here; and the ground is touchable as a taboo freed too; kissing the gravity of all love lets be. He dreams of her mind and the real coming changes of her windy listening fears. Feeling they may come to go with a lightening crack landing to shatter the growing branches of sensual trust . He dreams of what may remain should her storms so real blow love away, leaving no home or house of love still standing. He dreams into the end of every soul waking step; to walk the eternity of love’s give home to the receiving wake of love’s evolve, sleep, touch and courageous heal.
© Copyright November 21st, 2010 C.C. Arshagra
Poem born of writing a comment to Tell me… by wildflower
This writing started this by leaving a comment and then I decided to develop it into a written piece that could stand as a dream alone for love here.