Watching the lightning and listening to the thunder,
reading your words before I drift off to slumber.
My dreams take me away to foreign lands
my feet haven’t walked here, yet I know where I stand.
I hear your voice call me, all deep and sweet,
although I’ve not heard it, it drives my heart beat.
You call out my name, and I turn in an instant.
It feels so real, but reality is distant.
Always the same, you, me and the willow tree.
You look at me in wonder, like I’m all that you see.
We sit on the bench and stare out at the lake
I look in your eyes and my hand you do take.
I’ve been here before, I’ve felt your presence.
How could I ever forget such a sweet, tender essence?
In an ideal world I’d know the comfort of your arms,
knowing that with you, my heart would be shielded from harm.
But the world’s not ideal, and you don’t even see me,
so I’ll dream that you do, beneath the willow tree.
Kristian L. Weigman