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Posts Tagged ‘Craig Childs’

Living Dream


 
A cool and sunlit morning at the edge
of a canyon with the sun slanting warm
on my bare arms, and Craig said, “Lately
I’ve been dreaming everyone in my dream
is me, and what happens to them happens
to me and what happens to me happens
to them,” and in that moment with the light
still soft, I was a barrel-chested man with
a silvering beard and a halting half chuckle
and a dream of being a woman in white t-shirt
sitting at the edge of a canyon with the sun
shining warm on her long bare arms and
I tell you, it took no effort from me at all
for the moment to lose its walls and for
the self to lose its frame and I became
whatever a slant of light is—
I don’t even remember taking it,
that first step over the edge.

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