Poetry and Dreams

In this last week, the dreams are battering me, one after another, each strong and filled with potential meaning. As the dreams come, so do the poems. Arriving one after another. So since all my writing is coming in poetry, it probably should appear here as well. (brand new hot off the press)

Boulder Love Poem

This place has always held me,
from the cradle of sandstone to each rock,
each curve on the road, to the tops of towering ledges.
They have witnessed those who came before me,
each generation linking one to another
to culminate in me.
At fourteen, I was drunk with this place.
Overwhelmed by all it possessed,
maybe it was that time of life when I could not control
the effect or I may have chosen
not to ignore it. I was madly in love,
the passion of place consumed me like a fire,
threatening to destroy me with intensity.
I was released from the hold just a little
when I found the one who would become my husband,
sharing my desire between place and man.
I learned moderation of this place,
small doses, a weekend, a week,
creeping up to three weeks and a month.
I would once again be dragged back
to the edge of desire, to sit on a sandstone peak,
wade in Calf Creek or allow the sun
to hike across my body while I leaned on a rock
at the edge of Grass Lake.
As I ride my fifties, I am embolden,
for the children are raised and a retirement check
arrives each month. I have lived a good life.
I return bravely to sleep night after night
on the banks of Boulder Creek.
I invite the beautiful of snow on Maggie’s Ledge,
to burn my eyes. My legs carry me
to each entrance of the Escalante River.
I embrace Upper Falls as winter breaks to spring,
allowing myself to fall so deeply in love
that I should be afraid. I will never escape
something this beautiful.