On Waking from a Dream

to Andrew

I haven't dreamed of you for months--

Perhaps this is my altitude sickness,

To see your infectious, beloved smile in the night

And to think that you're happy to see me, too.

I knew this morning, waking up,

That when I strip everything else away--

All my daydreams, all my ambition, and everyone else--

That you are the only man I've ever loved.

Can you tell me why I can't stop these dreams?

Why I think of you at every turn--

Literally--and at every stop?

It takes my breath away.

How I would love to see your smile, here, now,

Here at eleven thousand feet

Where it could only add to the beauty

And make all my pain melt away.

Moment

"Rugged individualism" was a term

I had heard as a girl--

I loved it. It spoke of self-reliance,

Of cowboys and wagon trains

Of soldiers and adventurers

Of the person I wanted so badly to be.

There are other words others use

To describe this in me:

Stubbornness. Pigheadedness.

Self righteousness. Pride.

But I didn't want to rely on others.

I would do a thing myself, or not.

I know we were not built to live alone,

But perhaps I thought it weakness

To ask for help from anyone.

I have been the smart one

And I've been the strong one

The one to call when a thing needs doing.

How could I then be the one in need?

It seems so weak--and I have always

Disdained weakness. But there is a moment

Sometime in my past or future

When I have or will realize

That it is no shame to be human.