d r e a m i n g

misty silhouette of a eucalyptus tree against an early  morning sky, alongside firs and oaks
on Kashia Pomo lands

at times it is lonesome knowing
we do not dream
one another’s dreams
though we dwell
as near as we do.

I hope for us to dream
such immense dreams
that the edges overlap

allowing us to embrace
across infinite differences,

to become sources
of the warmth and ease
our weary souls seek
upon sleeping

so that we can abandon
our nightmares

and, together, rise.

This is a revision of a poem I wrote years ago, various versions of which have been included in chapbooks, and which I have been sharing this year.

I love these long winter nights as invitation toward long periods of dreaming.

As I reflect on 2021, dreaming has been so present, from receiving the Live Your Dream grant to sharing poetry in the mountains to co-facilitating community visioning and dreaming this past week/end.

Along the way, things have happened that I had never thought to dream at all– the distance between fantasy and possibility too great. I’m thankful to those who have folded me into their dreams, intentionally and not, and in so doing stretched my imagination.