The Dream

I am the flesh & bone Jesus dreamt alone, notes He whistled along jammy air Heaven to here

to my mother sitting on her hair, to my father staring back & bending the back

of a dandelion giving way to its children, its children’s children falling to the feet finally

of the tree & remaining in flight!; like God I do not make a wish to be known fully

O my Judas in plural! I am learning to love strangers on the street, I am boarding trains, donating clothes while

He is busy dreaming of you like He dreams of me still, a gentle whistle on the wind & through the prickles of a thistle

author: Jake Hawkey