There's a thin line, between dreams and memories.
Did I really hold you in my arms last night...
beneath the stars in a gentle breeze?
Surely, I did kiss your lips so tenderly
and touch your skin so fair...
Or am I just wishful thinking,
when I dream of us standing there?
I remember the sparkle in your eyes,
as if it were only moments past.
And feel the warmth from your touch,
as my excited heart beats fast.
Were you truly here with me...
the way I've longed for you to be?
Or am I still grasping at a silly fantasy?

There's a thin line, and a cloudy one at that,
which separates dreams from memories...
making it tricky to distinguish
between true and false, with ease.
Is it the memory of your hand in mine,
that lulls me to sleep each night?
Or is it the hope for your gentle touch,
that makes everything seem allright?
Is it the remembrance of your arms around me,
that keeps me warm and safe in the dark?
Or is it the longing for your tender kiss,
that keeps me from falling apart?

There's a thin line...
between the edge of darkness,
...and the commencement of light.
There's a thin line...
between the end of life,
...and the beginning of death.
There's a thin line...
between the death of winter,
...and the birth of spring.
And surely, there is a thin line...
between the limits of a dream,
...and the onset of a beautiful memory.

12/11/2001

Posted on 12/11/2001
Copyright © 2024 Rhodora M Fitzgerald