I dreamed a book, a tome, stepped off the shelf <br />And light as thought with flutes began to dance: <br />Slowly at first each page revealed itself <br />And then the book twirled round –a backward glance <br />Towards the watcher who stood up and tried <br />To seize the covers while they spun and swayed <br />The air vibrating like a gleaming bride, <br />Her eyes wide open, Mitzvah Tantz waylaid. <br /> <br />I dreamed my son-in-law of princely eyes <br />Saw a large potted plant outside my door <br />Catching the Succot rain, a rare surprise <br />For thirsty roots and mouths where deserts poor <br />In moisture seethe with lizards, crickets, sun; <br />The plant was dark and cold, he brought it in <br />And placed it carefully, the only one <br />Of all my plants to grace my white kitchen. <br /> <br />Then suddenly upon a sturdy stem <br />A mammal – far too sweet to be a rat – <br />With shovel nose, peeked quickly, said “Ahem! <br />I live here now, with you, and that is that.” <br /> <br />On Erev Yom Kippur I had a dream <br />That I prepared my table all in white, <br />Thinking of Sabbath, when each glass must gleam <br />Reflecting candle flames that burn all night. <br />A helpful witch came in and took the cloth <br />To wash out any stains – that were not there – <br />She drew it from the churning soapy froth <br />And threw it in the dryer without care… <br /> <br />I found it tumbling and I drew it out <br />To set the Sabbath table, put it back, <br />But saw or rather felt a sudden clout – <br />The cloth had shrunk and turned from white to black. <br /> <br />Oh God, my daytimes and my dreams are yours, <br />And I like Miriam no longer play; <br />If dreams are good, preserve them without pause, <br />If sick, may Balaam turn the night to day. <br /> <br />Linda Hepner <br />10.23.05<br /><br />Linda Hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holy-day-dreams/
