Last night you came to me,

        A clear vision I did see.

You, the angel of light,

        The angel of the night.

Sitting on the couch,

        You pulled me up from my slouch,

You placed your arms around my neck.

        Rocking, gently like a ship’s deck,

Leaning in, close to my ear,

        You whispered something, “listen here…”

 

Breathing in that moment,

        Felt like peace, after atonement,

I somehow suddenly knew,

        This moment to be true,

With you there by my side,

        Two separate worlds did collide.

Your spirit from beyond this realm,

        My body felt you overwhelm,

All I can say, at my deepest core,

        Is I have seen this all before.

 

A distant dream once foretold,

        Now the prophecy unfolds,

This very moment we now share,

        I was here…and you were there.

Was it simply déjà-vu,

        Within a dream, nothing new?

Or was it some past revery,

        A forgotten, fading memory?

 

The answer matters not, no,

        For this is what I know:

 

Last night you came to me,

        Bathed in light for all to see,

Warm as the noonday sun,

        You held me close, we were one,

And then you whispered in my ear

        What I needed most to hear:

 

“You will be alright.”

 

And then I woke.

 

Dane Dowell

May 16, 2024

A poem for Pop-pop, who came to me in a dream last night.