A sense of yearning painted my morning. I woke up knowing I had dreamed many dreams to warrant the feeling and even remembered some key parts and definitely a couple characters involved. Sometimes dreams can disrupt a day’s flow, in the sense that the line between reality versus dream world seems fuzzy. And maybe part of me wished the dream world could be real. People appear in dreams that can never really appear. Hands can be filled with gold in dreams and then, suddenly, are completely empty when eyes are open.
During my lunch break, I received a text from my friend Jodi that Prince, the legend, had passed away at the age of 57. “Purple Rain” began playing on repeat in my head. My memories associated with the song also began to appear. The thing about memories is that even the good ones can come with sadness. Especially when the feeling evoked from a memory is the same as the dreams did that particular morning.
With songs on repeat and memories on replay, I went through the motions of the day. Later, I decided to think of a good memory and write a poem about the experience.
That Grin
The way you looked
One happy day
Whites of your teeth
Were on full display
Birds flew for miles
To dive right in
Oh, the power
Of that grin!
Beauty beamed
Through all of you
Even the sun came out
To catch a view
ZACDAQ 