Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

sometimes i would lie in bed
and listen to her sleep
was her breathing ok
was she sleeping soundly
sometimes she would stir
troubled, caught within
nightmare's grasp,
i grew familiar with these
states, i would wake her
before the terror consumed
watching over, protecting
and she was grateful
for my steadfast attention
she thanked me with her eyes
a smile, a kiss or caress
in time, i began to understand
the symbols of her dreams
i began to unravel their complexity
we were intimate, sympatico
subject to the same forces and influences
what consumed and troubled her
consumed and troubled me, but
it was more than that, i began
to realize the true nature of her fear
the face behind the face of
the monster that pursued her
oh, irony of ironies - it was my own

and when she left our bed
with crushing and heartrending finality
i wondered
who would watch over her
and who would watch over me

truth always makes me smile

especially when it's so well stated

a moving poem. so intimate.

~westie

thanks guys.