I had a dream last night,
unlike any that I have had before.
In it I was visited by
the first woman I ever loved,
probably the only woman
I’ll ever love in that way.
Even though she’s been gone
for nearly twenty years
she looked just the same.
She spoke to me, her voice
a soft whisper,
a whisper I had missed
more than I knew.
She said,
“Maybe I didn’t love truly
while I was alive,
but now I am part of total love.”
She went on to tell me
that she was worried about me,
how she hated to see me
blame myself for her death.
I couldn’t speak,
I just stared at her,
my heart breaking all over again.
She spoke again,
“Once I told you that there
was something you needed to do.”
“Once I nudged someone
into taking an interest in you,
into giving you a chance at friendship.”
She paused, her beauty unchanged by time,
I knew I didn’t want to wake up,
I wanted to sleep forever
and never lose her again.
“This is the last time
I can help you,
this message is all we have left.
When I go, we’ll be over,
and it will be time for you to move on.”
She reached out for me,
touched my cheek,
just a faint touch,
infinitely sweet.
“You have so much potential,
your brain, your humor,
the way you can see into
a person’s mind and soul.
You need to embrace your talents again,
use them to help yourself,
use them to help others.”
And with that, she was gone.
I awoke,
at first, I felt like crying,
then I felt like laughing.
After that I got out
a notebook and a pencil
and wrote this poem.
I reread it, twice,
looking for some flaw,
some better way of saying it.
Finally, I gave up,
there was nothing I could improve.
Perhaps this poem
was an unexpected
fourth gift.