I dreamed your ghost came
To say goodbye, if that was it-
Because it was nothing that
You said; you stared instead,
And touched some things.
Your eyes seemed far away
And wise; I saw no pain there,
No surprise. I spoke but
You gave no reply. I hoped
You still knew who I was-
And hoped someday,
You'd come again.
When the dead come back
To see the things they've left,
And they are different than before,
It's just they're in a different world;
Peering through half-opened doors-
Someday we'll go there too and find
The reasons self seems left behind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As an atheist I should dismiss this but I cannot. Patti, you touch the parts other poets cannot reach, again. Just thought, there was an advertising campaign many years ago on UK TV that passed into legend. Heineken, the beer that reaches the parts other beers cannot reach! ' It was a sensational hit and passed into contemporary slang for anything extraordinary that elicited an extraordinary response. God! Never realised how much a product of our references we become. I feel a poem coming on............. I have some new ones...