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dreamland amd ma maison en campagne
Posted November 10th, 2009 - 1:27 am by from Vancouver, Canada (Permalink)

around the fire they sit at midnight telling tales.
while all the world's at rest they share the dreams
of what's to come and yesterday.

when dreamer takes your hand,
there may be a plan:
follow into dreamland,
follow if you can.

through a door and down a passage
stand the gates of midnight.
through the gates and past a sentry
lie the fields of day.
listen at the keyhole of the universe within you.
seek the dream and you'll discover guides along your way.

within the forest there's a garden
and a house for those who see it.
crumbling now the door lies open,
enter if you may.

when dreamer takes your hand,
there may be a plan:
follow into dreamland,
follow if you
follow if you
follow if you can.

I wrote a series of about 25 songs in a period of six weeks between the middle of mai et le fin du juin, 2001. As I wrote the songs, I met the characters who sing them, and came to know and/or to write a story that they are a part of. In Dreamland, as Willie, a kindergarten teacher on summer vacation, sings, accompanying himself on the guitar, he introduces his summer-visiting across-the-back-garden neighbour, Sean, to one possibility of reconnecting with his soul, by listening to his dreams. Later in the story, after Sean and Willie, both happily married men, have fallen in love with one another, Sean takes, or is lead into, imagery from Willie's song and writes a companion poem, which he recites to music playing in behind his words.

ma maison en campagne

The sun shines down, a soft winter sun
Slanting through cracks in a ring of broken walls,
All that is left of our house, my house,
Ma maison en campagne.
I hunker down against an inner wall out of the wind,
The winter sun delighting my skin, remembering.

We were so young then, you and Jody and I, hardly more than kids.
We built our house in the middle of the forest,
Felled the trees, milled the wood into planks.
I was sawyer, you the finish carpenter.
Jody was the designer. Jody did everything.
She was so beautiful. We found her beautiful, both of us.
And you were beautiful, too, my Laurence.
I was your Saul, and Jody’s Saul, and we had such happiness.

Steps we made down through the earth
Into the most wonderful pantry imaginable.
The earth was good to us, my Laurence, sweet as honey in the comb.
Our gardens were lush, our thighs, the tenderness of our berry lips.

Now the trees grow tall about the house.
Saplings sprout in our kitchen, bracken in our bedroom.
The forest has taken back our gardens, my Laurence,
Taken them back to its own.

It is sweet, now, to sit with you in the winter sun,
Smelling the wind in your hair, tasting the sweet salt of your belly.
Ah, my Laurence, it was sweet then, so long ago.

Time passes swiftly. You are gone. Jody is gone. I am gone, long ago.
Only the walls of our house, without a roof,
Attest to the love we shared
So many summers,
Long ago.

Posted November 17th, 2009 - 3:28 pm by from Hannover, Germany (Permalink)
These two poems create a dreamlike atmosphere, which I like very much. No the first one is a song. I would like to listen to the tune.

Posted November 19th, 2009 - 1:14 pm by from Vancouver, Canada (Permalink)
Hi Ingrid,

Glad you enjoy the dreaming. When John and I come to Germany, some time in the next few years, I will get in touch with you and sing you the song for Dreamland. Until then, we can keep exchanging poetry, song lyrics or otherwise.

cheers to the muse