Last Thoughts Of A Dream Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I wake up breathing the last
Thoughts of a dream,
Like leaving an aspen forest in
The nape of a mountain,
Where I saw glimpses of your
Gypsy eyes through the bowers
Of golden branches, as if you were
The strange and eager sunlight in
My head, turning about beneath my eyes,
Not knowing how you were attracted
Only that you came with the natural desire,
One of the laws of nature;
You came like the tide orchestrated
By the sterling satellite.
In your opaque gown of evening,
You shifted like the nervous continents
Of earth,
Your eyes fell on me like nectared fruit
From the limbs of an apple tree
Awakening the scientist—
And you did not know you had come.
Awakening, it was as if you had never dreamed,
And you had never been the light in my woods,
But I saw you there, undressing in sleep,
Swimming naked in whispering pools,
Daydreaming naked in yellow motes
In green beds lied out between the trees;
So, even if you forget and tonight you
Fold yourself up like a classified letter,
I know that you will come to my subconscious,
As waves die into the shore,
As moths burn like paper in the kerosene’s flames,
I will see your eyes through the golden leaves
Of aspen trees tonight,
As we shall dream….