I went to bed
and lay asleep that night
without any impression whatsoever
that while I slept, before dawn
my father – my dearest father
would die in my own sleep.
So while I sat in the parlour of my dreams
mourning and sorrowing with the people in my dreams
Family was present but my father was absent.
Questions were raised and yet no answers fell to the ground to meet our bare feet.
We all had the familiar feeling of loss
For we knew in my dreams that father had passed on.
So, I was surprised to wake up to the phone ringing
to my sister’s voice tingling heartily in my ears
telling me stories of family in the present.
And when I told her my father had died in my sleep,
we both thanked goodness that I am now awake – father is still very much alive.
My father will spend many more days raising many questions to which answers will not fall,
of how many more long years he has to spend away from my dreams.