I had a visit from my dead father one night last week
Who did not engage with me directly in my dream
When I heard him say something to someone else
That revealed he actually cared for me.
I woke up a bit choked up at the thought
Moved to remember too many awful childhood scenes
Better left behind fading out of mind
Sleeping in the drift of forgotten time.
When memory does not jibe with experience
As in a dream as a wish something might be true
I receive it as a device devised to let me let it go
A gift given to me by my unconscious.
While it has been some years now without my mother
Appearing in my sleeping self storytime
She who died alone almost sixty years ago
All my life I have known the strength of her love.
Dreams are not summoned nor conjured by demand
Though I would be so happy to catch a glimpse of her
Long ago I learned she remains with me when I'm awake
As I keep the best memories to enjoy all my days.
