riding dreams

It's something about

dreams I can't remember

when my mind rambles on

running through hidden rhythms

looking for something greener.

It's something about

meeting you there in the mists

in-between natural conversation

and forgotten memories.

Having known you

and lost you and found you,

I still grieve those vacant hours

always harder before the rain comes.

It's something about

the way you hold my hand--

I'm sure of it--even if,

I can't remember how it felt.

Reviews

[C. Harter Amos]

What a wonderful poet you are, and what an illusive, beautiful painting of someone you love inside a dream you've given us! "I still grieve those vacant hours always harder before the rain comes" very profound and almost a seperate thought from the rest of the poem, still so well written; my favorite lines of the poem. Maybe because the whole poem strummed my heart-strings. Beautifully done, Emily. xx - Mimi.

[...]

. oh, i remember these words ... i had so many questions in my mind when i last read them ... but today ... i just see answers ... and there's so much love in them that i am overwhelmed and moved ... this love is so real ... so beautiful ... brutal too ... but inspiring ... it glows ... thank you for these words, emily ...

[Siddhartha]

The memories fade but the feeling still remains. Oh Emily, your poems always delve into the deepest layers of human emotion. They are elegant yet accessible and leave me feeling fortunate to have read it.

[Nobody.]

You're amazing. this poem is all the evidence I need to back up that statement.

[Nothing Personal]

Uff.. this is just a different league all together.. "The way you hold my hand, I'm sure of it -- even if, I can;t remember how it felt". Full justice to why poetry still exists in this materialistic world..It's about the unreal comforts in dreams and the beautiful un- happened unions that I miss on reality..you have set me on a different path. Thank you !!

[asdarkeyesclose]

I liked the intensity of this poem and the line 'always harder before the rain comes' reminds us that emotions can hurt. Incredibly poignant.

[Brandon Henson 1990]

Brilliant, I love this poem especially the lines " I still grieve those vacant hours, always harder before the rain comes" wonderful

[Jouni Sakari]

I read this many times , to get in the feeling , and I feel ( like I also know that you have written very much in your life ) that you are searching for some word , some special word for this special touch , that is hard to remember . Oh , is this about dementia ? For me the rain is like finger tips , and a song comes in mind by Roy Orbison : Raindrops . Being alone for many years , my skin shouts !!! touch me !!! I find inspiration between the lines , what ever I read , thus my fingertips are rain , I hope this yelps

[arbitrary jane]

dreams like magic carpets... taking us on sojourns through memories and ... things we wish were memories.
such lovely words you weave - hidden rhythms, the mists in-between... and the absolute surety of things we can't quite remember.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

Ah, Emily beautiful memories so sad the feel , still we have the memories.
This is beautiful.

Chloe