Dream A Little Dream

“It seemed to travel with her, to sweep her aloft in the power of song, so that she was moving in glory among the stars, and for a moment she, too, felt that the words Darkness and Light had no meaning, and only this melody was real.”

- MADELEINE L'ENGLE -

Days like today are the most difficult--when I want more than anything to breathe my own poetry to the page or get caught up in someone else’s words and the world they’ve crafted in a book.

But I can’t. Not today. Because my thoughts scatter like ashes--disintegrating at the slightest touch if I’m lucky enough to catch a stray piece in my hand. I can’t read more than a few paragraphs at a time. I can’t write more than a few words without pausing and fighting to remember what I wanted to say. And that breaks me more than anything. Because that’s who I am--writing is the only way I know how to exist. That’s what this disease is taking from me this second time around, when the fatigue in my mind is a thousand times worse than the fatigue in my body. I feel like I’m constantly swimming underwater, fighting to reach the surface where words are clear and emotion is concise and I can breathe without feeling like I’ll drown in everything that remains unspoken. On days like today, I can’t read. I can’t write. But I can dream. And I’ll keep dreaming until every breath is exhaled, until every heart last beats, until every star in the sky goes out. This disease won’t take my dreams.

Not today.

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© 2021 by
Susan Pogorzelski.