Pink Dress

In my dream I’m wearing a pink dress and the fabric

is cool and cottony against my legs.

In this dream, I am waiting

for I hear thunder in the distance

and someone singing a sad, old love song.

The afternoon thrumming with a gathering storm.

we see what we want to see.

a brother said, “you don’t care for prayer, do you?”

and he asked me, where is god?

I turned my hands to the sky like radio telescopes

I said, I want to believe, I do

But all I hear is the constant hum

cosmic background radiation

the low rumble of distant thunder

and the steady buzz of the heat death of the universe.

I am now a girl in a black dress.

Oh, I see the look in your eyes

it’s just a kink -- there’s no need to worry

I sway a little as I wait for the rain to come

I have one hand on my chest and the other on myself.

I am swaying a little as the storm comes in.

The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart.†

Suddenly I am back in my dream and my pink dress

lays cool and cottony against my skin

I hear some far-off music playing, soft and sad

while the air tastes like thunder in the afternoon.

Can I ever remember writing a happy song?

where God smiles down on the wide green land

and the old grey poet wakes from his restless sleep?

_________________________________________________

† Gautama Buddha