Naomi Shihab Nye




The Dream

Sometimes a dream lands so hard

it flattens you.

I liked it better before, you moan,
waving my dream like a silk handkerchief,
light and soundless above my head.

It could have been anything,
a kite, a bird, a large balloon
with three passengers.

Instead, it landed in your lap,
you asked for it,
secretly you had been reeling it in for months
like a trapped fish.

Too big for the net–
it loves you more than you love it.

It wants to stay here forever,

smiling and cuddling

in the bosom of your days.