To sleep, but to dream; to wake but to yearn

“I dreamt — marvellous error! — that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.”
― Antonio Machado

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
William Shakespeare

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(the beads of tiny rain drops appear as pearls upon a spider’s web / Julie Cook / 2015)

Routed out of slumber’s silent realm
waking in the harsh dark reality of that what was,
for was, was but a dream. . .

Again the dream, each time is different
Yet the meaning and emotion quite the same
To be. . .
Embraced
Enveloped
Loved completely

It may not be you
but it is some form of you
Sadly having never seen you
nor achingly never having known you

But you are there
kind and nurturing. . .
Missing you,
longing to know you
to see you
to feel you
to see your face,
seeing mine

In sleep you are elusive
Seemingly present, yet not.
In waking, you have never existed
Emptiness fills the heart

Fleeting and just out of reach,
Your smile fills the void
To be loved as in the dream,
In the reality of waking,
leaves the heart spent.

Tears fall as the pearls of a broken strand
worn beautifully around your neck
But that I could gather them up
giving them back to you,
pouring them gently into your warm hands
For in the dream, you are warm. . .

Your eyes tenderly enveloping the now grown child
You see nothing negative, just joy
in what stands before you—
How different would it all have been
knowing you?

You remain hidden
In the shadows of a sleeping mist
You are longed for in wakefulness
A haunting specter longed for in
a dream

6 comments on “To sleep, but to dream; to wake but to yearn

  1. Lynda says:

    This is hauntingly beautiful – like the love of a mother. Blessings for you today my friend.

  2. Exquisite and hauntingly beautiful as Lynda said. Was this about your mother?
    Hugs, N 🙂 ❤

    • Not one I’ve ever known—just a reoccurring dream theme I’ve had on and off throughout my life—there’s a yearning there for sure, for something, someone I’ve never known. I know it has everything to do with being adopted and not so much for a biological mother who gave me up or my adopted mother who died years ago—just a real void deep down that creeps in every once in a while. I’ll have a dream, I’ll see something that triggers it, it’s really a palpable feeling but one that merely pops up I suppose when I’m either tired or moved by something I’ve seen, heard etc—weird I know, but putting words to it seems somewhat a comfort. . .

      • Wow, that’s interesting. Maybe it was someone who was around you a lot when you were an infant and who made a lasting impression for some reason. That is very intriguing indeed. For decades afterwards, I had frequent dreams about the house James and I lived in the first year we were married. It was a house I knew well as it was my mother’s sister’s house. After my dad died, she added on to Mom’s house and moved in with us us. And then when James and I married it still hadn’t sold so she let us live there that first year while I finished my senior year at TCU. Not sure why I dreamt of it over and over again, but I did for probably 30 or more years. Haven’t in a long time now though. Hugs, N ❤

      • well, that said, you probably will tonight?
        TCU eh, Horney Toads—I love them!!! Gig um 🙂
        I’ll email more about this aching little mystery of mine as to do so here is limiting—it’s a void for sure—a longing that goes down deep, but one that the adult just pushes aside and goes on—-who knows!!
        and sweet dreams to you my friend and may your sleep be sound and pain free- – –
        my love to you Natalie—Julie

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