Upon the Death of Your Mother

I dreamed last that you came to visit,
that you had something important to tell.
I was busy stocking shelves at the store,
and asked you to wait for a few minutes.

Afterward, I had to attend a board meeting,
and asked you to wait an hour or two more.
Then I had to sweep the boardwalk out front;
when I finally turned to talk, you had gone.

I awoke in the morning, feeling remorse.
I am not sure why, as it was only a dream.
Or was it? When I called you this afternoon,
and explained, you were not at all surprised.

About Greg Wright

I have worn many hats as a writer and editor over the years. Unlike my scholarly and journalistic work from the "old days" at Hollywood Jesus, Past the Popcorn, or SeaTac Blog, the writing here is of a more overtly personal and spiritual nature. I hope it provokes you as much as it provokes me.
This entry was posted in Other, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Upon the Death of Your Mother

  1. Anonymous says:

    So true, Greg. This resonates with me both spiritually and practically speaking. Would like for the younger generation to ponder your poem.

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