The Dream

I am the flesh & bone
Jesus dreamt alone,
notes He whistled
along jammy air
Heaven to here


to my mother
sitting on her hair,
to my father staring back
& bending the back


of a dandelion
giving way
to its children,
its children’s children
falling to the feet finally


of the tree & remaining
in flight!; like God I
do not make a wish
to be known fully


O my Judas in plural!
I am learning to love
strangers on the street,
I am boarding trains,
donating clothes while


He is busy dreaming of you
like He dreams of me still,
a gentle whistle on the wind
& through the prickles of a thistle