Dreaming the Music

As dawn brightened
a shadowy summer morn,
I dreamed.
One young man
slim and dark
Looking for
the music
or even just
a pen
to write it down
so he
could learn it.
could he find
Groups of
young musicians
couldn’t help him.
Friends were off
someplace else.
he was.

in the room
of another young man
he didn’t know,
on the bed
inside a black
leather jacket,
a pen,
a notepad.
His heart quickened.
I can write it down.
I can learn it.

Just at that
He heard
someone rustling
outside the door.
In came the young man
looking remarkably like
Slim dark jeans,
black leather belt,
plain white tee
tucked in at the waist.
Curly black
hair framing
a dark-featured
Italian face.

In this young man,
Who are you?

Wait. Wait.
I am in your class.
I need to learn
this song.
I can’t find
I just wanted
to borrow
your pen & paper
to write
it down.

A flash
of recognition.
The young man
broke out
a big grin.

This morning
I met myself
Face to face.
The music is
right here.
In me.
Don’t be
afraid of
the search.
And don’t despair.
Don’t give up.
Along the meandering
somehow, somewhere,
we arrive back
Be honest.
Speak the truth.
Fear will vanish
In its recognition
As we stand tall and
Discover ourselves

This entry was posted in Doing My Own Business, Dream Work, Fantasies, Symbols, Metaphor, Phoenix Rising, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Dreaming the Music

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