No Dreaming Required

She said we never reach the river we dream of. Never.

Yet, she’s there, roasting marshmallows, gutting fish, keeping dry inside a tent.

Perhaps, she’s forgotten how a wild river feels along the soles of her feet.

Its cold water, during the hottest days, makes you shiver, while the sun heats your body, still wet with its current on your skin.

Tickles those tender city feet.

 

She told me a story once.

As a young girl, she and a friend, riding bikes, exploring lanes and ways, had found a spring, circled by flowers and moss.

Magic, she called it. I saw the fire in her eyes, when that spring brought words to her mouth.

Words found her there.

 

They’re still with her. Not necessarily words she could tell someone. They’re inside of her. They didn’t just come to her. She had to go and find them.

 

I know…

Once she made a deal with abandon, ran the risk of abandonment.

A fool brave, not stupid

With more to learn.

Her feet, constantly wet.

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27 Comments on “No Dreaming Required

  1. Oh am touch by this poem.this blew me away. Thank you for taking the time to share these write up through these words.

    These words are painted in truth, experience and perspective. I especially love how you started it and how you ended the write up. Beautifully written and as I read through again on each line I was amazed . Each word you used are true and reflective of my personal encounter with people .

    This produced a smile on my tired face after a long day. You’re appreciated.

    You are welcome

    #PATRICKSTORIES
    Peace ✌and Love ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I like the flow. I like the mix of prose and poem; I felt like I was reading a story but it also had this magical-visual feel to it…almost like reading a dream.

    Liked by 1 person

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