Repair Work

Last night I dreamed 

that a friend gave me a typewriter. 

I had forgotten about it. 

I found it lying in a dusty corner 

of a  ramschackle house I did not live in. 

Lots of things had been left in the house, 

I think about three floors worth. 

It had taken awhile to reach 

the house 

but the gentle path was beautiful 

lined green with shady trees and plants.  

Walking back (to where?) 

from it was so pleasant. 

I had to apologize to my friend 

for forgetting about the typewriter

as I wondered how to use it.  

  

I then dreamed of being underwater. 

Not scary, but so free and blue. 

I felt no temperature 

surely like an unborn child would know

no temperature other than perfect. 

Other people were in this sea, 

we were all having fun 

minding our own sea-business, 

even swimming upside down 

looking like pencils.    

 

A smiling man  

drove up in his large truck.  

He said not to worry; 

He would repair the house.   

But first, he, too, went swimming, 

diving so deep that I did worry.     

 

He arose laughing,

just like Jesus.   

  

say, May 31, 2019