Last night there came a dream
in which I was granted the greatest of all gifts:
my mortality. I washed myself to prepare,
and, in the act of washing, I let go
of every care.
I carefully soaped my hair.
I did not wish, or try, to defend myself;
I took no courage; I felt no fear.
No death wish, or life wish,
And when, suddenly, so unexpectedly,
my eyes opened on the night, there was no relief,
or start, or fright.
Only joy, as a song feels,
when its voice is taking flight.