My Thoughts, Your Thoughts Poem by Chris Wrzesien

When I sit with my back straight and my eyes closed
vividly visualizing my happy place
on a mountain rock under orange skies
with all my happy people
from high school and summer camp and that beach trip,

do they feel my presence
the way that I am feeling theirs?
Is there at least a spark of my being
that flickers across their minds?
Is there a rock somewhere on some mountain
under some orange skies
that suddenly feels an extra milligram of air
as it holds up my fleeting thought?

I think so.

And do my happy people feel the presence
of my other happy people,
whom they have never met nor heard of?

Their first encounter -
without the flesh.

Seeing someone in a dream
is a lot like seeing them in reality.

What part of them do I think of
so that they will think of me?
Their face?
voice?
touch?
their heart?

And this thought of you that just popped into my mind -
this must be your happy place.
It's quite lovely here.