the dream

The sun was still rising.
I could almost feel it
moving across the sky,
but daren’t look for fear
of spoiling that moment.

It caressed my skin, my heart,
imparting warmly a need
to feel the grass tickling
the soles of my bare feet,
pebbles poking at my toes.

I laughed, for this was not
at all where I thought to be,
and yet it so magnificently
manifested sweetly a dream
I had ever sought in my mind.

This burn I knew unvisited
bade me disrobe and splash
my feet beneath its coolly
coursing surface sedately
draping water around my legs.

Isolated, yet never alone,
naked before nature’s beauty,
I stepped out of the water
and wandered wondering
through a pristine forest.

Beyond the trees, I found a path,
shimmering stones painted by the sun
and nestled in the grass,
warming as the day grew
calling me ever forward.

It was then I found the bothy—
simple wooden slats for walls
a small sturdy frame,
woven thatch for a roof,
standing empty, waiting for me.

But not just me, I dreamed,
and without calling out,
I stepped surely forward,
whispering tender her name
to the eager blossoms around me,

and opened the door.

A wee bothy in Scotland. (Pixabay)

6 thoughts on “the dream

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