Dream Touch
Dream Touch

I reached out to you in a dream last night. I know I dreamed of you, and I know I touched you in my dream, but I am not sure at all when that was, or silly me, if it was a dream at all. Perhaps I’ve tossed and turned all night, longing to be touching you, and then woke up with a hazy recollection of it and transposed it into a dream. Sadly, my ability to place the events in time or place is fuzzy, unfocused.

Weeds are limited in that way. They accept what is and do not question.

I remember the ache, the stretching, the yearning to be near you and then the softness and the delicate intake of breath as I reached for you and possibly brushed up against you. Did I find you? Were you really there? Or is this a telling a dream from which I cannot awaken? In my dream you were happy and shining, and others saw your worth just as brightly as I do. You glimmered with promise as you stood strong and tall.  Your heart beat warmly with a fire that all could appreciate. And I was allowed to be close to you and smile with the knowledge that my faith in you had been realized with blossoms of contentment.

Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.

We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.

Unauthorized use, distribution and/or duplication of any of this material without the express written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

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