Dream Half a World Away

Dream Half a World Away

By Andrew Mobley

I’m afraid of forgetting your face

Your smile so rare

All I have of you is a ghostly cold, spring warm trace

Written on my soul to tear

I’m afraid of the fading of your gentle voice

That once swept over my weary heart like a cool breeze

That in my darkness gave me cause to rejoice

That to my rusted doors were keys

Now we’re gone

Half a world away with only whispers

The wind upon

And the cherry tree withers

Losing its grip on its fruit

Watching as they slip through its gnarled fingers in winter bare

Helplessly falling to the barren root

There is no fruit so sweet that left such a bitter taste

But I see the coming spring

And I know what the waters of Marah bring

Life again, that was and is to come

I’m afraid of myself and my war

With or without your gentle touch

That I once and never felt before

Because now what is my love was once our crutch

The lonesome bitter breeze reminds me

Of the love once forgotten flowing through my ancient veins

Oh that I could have seen, that you could now see

The ills we needlessly bear, our shackles, our chains

We sang each other’s names half a world away

And now alone I want to scream

For God to turn numb night into obliterating day

And restore the gentle, unsallied dream

Andrew Mobley may be living proof that the supposedly mind-broadening effects of travel are ultimately limited. He has lived in China, Indonesia, Taiwan, Laos, and the United States of America. http://advocate.jbu.edu/author/mobleyai/