Last night I dreamt I was (by Christine Valters Paintner)

 

Last night I dreamt I was

 

flying, slow circles though space,
ascending north to see polar bears
with their curls of breath and then
rainbow ribbons spreading across sky,
stitching stars together.
I swooped and swirled through
orange canyons, over blue peaks,
inhaling the world
like freshly plucked blossoms.

Last night I dreamt I was spying
on the life I thought I wanted,
the grand sweep of space,
flinging myself out to the very edges,
climbing from silver day to flushed evening,
feeling the pulsing stretch of wingspan.

Last night I dreamt I was crying,
unbearable untethered floating freedom,
seeing my shadow cast far below.
I ached for you out of reach,
I soared expecting a symphony of spheres,
but I just missed your song.

Last night I awakened from a dream
and your spine was pressed against mine,
the weighted warmth of blankets,
my foot extended to catch the coolness,
dawn light distilled,
summoning forth the world.
I thought of the hedgerows outside our door
heavy with herbs,
and rain murmuring on the grass.

Sometimes I look up and see trails
of myself traversing the sky.
But mostly I am grateful for gravity.
Grateful for all that keeps me in your orbit.