Poet’s Corner – A is for Alzheimer’s: Only Dreams to Fill

And in the night I stand alone:
In the distance, soft guitar;
The clouds, like rivers, rush above–
Taking with them every star.

My heart beats out of rhythm;
For it knows my tattered gown:
Where dreams have all but vanished,
While hope shines my tarnished crown.

I call for Alice and her Looking Glass:
So I may sneak a peek,
Into a future waiting:
I’ve always longed to seek.

And in her mirror, I feel sunshine
Which only shines on me.
White sands, they rise to lift me
As I see beyond the sea.

I watch a man with heavy heart–
Frantic: looking for what’s his–
Picking through the refuse,
With keen analysis.

Then in the scraps, he glances twice.
Commanded by a light so bright;
His face enlivens; his eyes, they shine:
A star’s escaped the river’s night.

He holds it to his heart, so dear;
And feels its message, true:
Don’t worry ‘bout your life beyond;
No need for feeling blue.

We’ll live the life we’re meant to live:
Paths crisscross storms with peace.
And like the star you’re holding
You’re the new dawn’s golden fleece.

Suddenly, the soft guitar,
Pulls strings inside my heart:
And we stand together-side by side-
Knowing, we’ll never part.

Still, my heart beats out of rhythm
But this time, inside light:
Of what’s to birth more lifetimes,
From fallen stars this night.

(Am I mad as the Madhatter?
No, I’m not mad at all.
I’m just a woman on a journey
With unsophisticated gall.)

And all the goodness that I see;
Can fit into one heart:
Promise, hope, and riches,
Of which we’re all a part.

Let sadness pass, they tell me.
But who are they; I ask?
Do I have to wait ‘til time runs out;
Like an elixir from my flask?

Or may I imbibe this dream right now?
Drink it ‘til I’m blind?
Must I eat these sorrows on my plate?
(This can’t be God’s design.)

I no longer need this looking glass:
Like you, I’ll hold stars close.
Because our time has taught me
We will endure evil’s throes

As I toss the mirror from me;
And gain the wings to fly:
The sorrow’s gone, and we’re set free,
In nothing but blue sky.

(The clouds, they’ve lifted from my sights,
The stars returned at will.
And guitar, it plays the prophecy:
We’ve only dreams to fill.)

Top photo: Bigstock

About Robin Clark (58 Articles)
Robin, born in Talent Oregon, now resides in Bellevue, a community outside of Seattle Washington. She is a published poet, OP-ED writer and Children's story author. She is currently in partnership with a composer who has asked her to write the book for his next musical. She is also being courted by assorted Directors to write a stage play and her dream is to leave a legacy in words, where you come to realize anything is possible.