This poem came to me in a dream. I was asleep one moment, and awake the next, this poem fully formed in my mind. I rushed for pen and paper, greatly disturbing the person sleeping next to me at the time, to write it all down.
It’s the air blown by the people.
It’s the air blown by the sea.
It’s the air that draws its breath between
the mouths of You and Me.
I don’t know where I’m going.
I’m not sure where I’ve been.
But where You are is where I’ll be,
and where I’ll be back again.
Once upon a dream I said:
“I’ll find my way back to you,
as surely as on the ground we’ll find,
the early morning dew.”
And while we’re lost, that’s OK,
if we’ve got ready minds.
As long as we’re clever,
we stick together,
and revere the ties that bind.