Nightmares rock my crib
I wake
scream
cling
relax into the arms
of the man who always finds me.
The strong, shaking arms of the
man who clings back in
desperation.
I feel tears drip onto my head
drip
drip
drip
I nuzzle closer, offer
my own comfort.
But it was I who had the nightmare.
Maybe my father foresees
the nightmares
Perhaps his trembling arms hold back
the nightmares
It might be that beyond his arms
the nightmares run free.
Yet I settle…
relax…
dose…
Warmth spreads from his arms
to me.
My eyes fall closer and
the nightmares
Fade.
I see my father holding my hand
as we walk along the river.
I see the moon above us and my
father’s chin sprouting hair in the moonlight.
Everything is good.
But it was I who had the nightmare…
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Nightmares rock my crib
I wake
scream
cling
relax into the arms
of the man who always finds me.
The strong, shaking arms of the
man who clings back in
desperation.
I feel tears drip onto my head
drip
drip
drip
I nuzzle closer, offer
my own comfort.
But it was I who had the nightmare.
Maybe my father foresees
the nightmares
Perhaps his trembling arms hold back
the nightmares
It might be that beyond his arms
the nightmares run free.
Yet I settle…
relax…
dose…
Warmth spreads from his arms
to me.
My eyes fall closer and
the nightmares
Fade.
I see my father holding my hand
as we walk along the river.
I see the moon above us and my
father’s chin sprouting hair in the moonlight.
Everything is good.
But it was I who had the nightmare…