THE CHILD IN MY DREAMS

The child in my dreams walks in light,
he is my siblings
and he is my children
and, at the end of the corridor,
he becomes me.

The child in my dreams wears robes of spring
and flowers open their petals, blushing
as the child in my dreams
passes by the garden
on his way to the temple.

The child in my dreams digs up memories
and buries the future in the clouds,
smiles, dipping his toe in the pool of the present;
pretends to pray while dreaming away in the temple.

The child in my dreams walks on air
and gets on tippy toes, touching
every star along the way.

The child in my dreams looks nothing like me.
He turns his head when someone calls my name.
He’s too good for this world
and sleeps whenever I am not dreaming
using God’s crooked arm as a cradle.

John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals, online and in print. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.