Sometimes I dream . . . .
I had a dream last night. I dreamt that once upon a time I was young and free, bouncy and spry. I dreamt about a time when as a young sapling, adolescent cowboys would use me as a bucking bronco, riding the air beneath me--feeling as though they had been thrust to the stars and back.
I dreamt that I grew and produced a small shade. The lady of the house came outside, stood, stared wistfully at me and dreamt of her grandchildren swinging from a stout branch one day.
I dreamt that I grew hardy and gave enough shade for young lovers to spread red checkered tablecloths beneath my branches, nibble on moon pies and swig RC colas without a care in the world.
I dreamt of girlie giggles, boy shyness and carved initials in my sides until I split with joy--
I dreamt of little boys drawing circles in the dirt beneath my shade, getting blisters on their thumbs from their opalescent marble shooters--
I dreamt of little girls playing house, using my leaves to shield them from the summer sun, and when the golden rays gave way to silver droplets, making mud pies to serve their doll families.
I dreamt that one day that same little girl who sat beneath my shade, who served mud pies, dined with young loves and carved initials in my sides would one day stand here and dream--dream that she could go back for just one day and listen as her mother's lilting voice calls her to dinner, dream that she could return for just one moment and feel her big brother's hand give her a "just right" shove from the back, dream that for just one hour she could sit with her grandfather as he told stories of riding that bucking young sapling--
Sometimes I dream, if only for a moment--sometimes those moments encompass a lifetime--