Awakening

by Michele Fry ©1966


Lay down your wooly head, my child
Lay down your head an’ dream . . . . .
     O’birds an’ bees an’ butterflies, an’ traipsing ‘cross the seas.



Dream o’ dream enough for two,

Enough for you an’ me . . . . .
     For I am growing up an’ face a stark reality.

Except that might tomorrow please me
More than did today . . . . .
     I’d stay wrapped up in my cocoon and dream my life away.

I’d picture me as livin’ in a
Cottage by the sea . . . . .
     My true love close beside me and children on my knee.

I’d play my flute and paint and write,
And gather friends about me.
     My tables laid with fruit and wine, and flowers in the window.

And we’d not want for anything,
We’d be so full contented . . . . .
     The world would lose its harshness and all that I’ve resented.

I’ve wiled away my youth in such
Utopian fantasy . . . . .
     Not knowing for a moment that these schemes could never be.

But now I am awakening,
These dreams, they have no stem . . . . .
     Are simply mounted to the sky with naught for holding them.

For children do get hungry,
And someone pays the rent,
     And friends have other things to do when all the wine is spent.

And moon glow stirs my pulses
In a manner heretofore unknown . . . . .
     With arms up-spread, I join the realm of Goddess, mother, crone.

It takes no energy to dream
Just free imagination . . . . .
     T’was easy to mistake as real a child’s hallucination.

To overlook tha’ surge of power
Which serious challenges can bring . . . . .
     Blessed are the realities that force the beating wing.