Fielding Dreams



In the dark of night I called.
Sometimes you came and you held me
and I did feel safe and loved; for a moment;
how I clung to those crumbs, and still do.
I don’t want to hear the vulgar epitaphs that
seem to define me. I am more than that— but I
am wanting. I start each day anew with dreams
of being that perfect being who might please
you and I get lost in the day because I’m slow
to learn and need to be reminded that though I
might be confused there is a definitive right and
wrong and I must chose one way or the
other. Why, when I am swimming in the depths
of the day do I carry the ugly weight of your
problem with me? Do I want to drown in your
sorrow? Maybe I know the exertion will make me
stronger and someday I might pull myself from
the turbulent ocean and take to the smooth-
sailing skies, where the blue is big enough to
field my dreams, and yours, then maybe. . . I
will make you happy.

I am not so sure why you called this piece "Fielding dreams"... but it spoke to me so personally. It was almost like I would have written it exactly the same way for myself. Word to Word.

Thanks for this one. It made me want to believe in myself, now that I know that I ain't the only one in this world who feels like that.

-

much love, light and laughter,
ananya.

Tasha, I read this three times and each time I came away with the same thought, could this be a prayer? ‘tis a lovely poem. Your friend,
Jack

we are all slow to learn i think. very provocative piece to one who has been there.
i like. thanks dsk