Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The sadness, love and comfort of dreams

Last night met two dead friends in my dreams. It was so great to see them. Even in my dreams I knew I was dreaming and thought to myself "this must be a dream, but I don't care, I need to touch them, hug them" I did and it was fantastic to hold them once again. But then they morphed into my daughters and I lost them again.

I love those dreams. They're a poor consolation but at least some consolation.
I don't think I'll ever reconcile with the notion of death and loss. There will never be peace for me. Reconcile is such a ridiculous word here, as if death and I had ever conciled before.


  1. Hi Emi

    This post really reminded me of the work of the great poet Frank Bidart. He writes marvellously about meeting the dead, in dreams and elsewhere. I think you would really like him, if you haven't read already.


  2. thanks! haven't read him yet but will. get so many great recommendations through you readers.


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