I normally do not remember dreams br That assail me when I sleep, br I normally do not want to; br And when I do remember them, br I tend to wake up in fear and trembling br Because the same God who terrorizes me in the day br With loneliness and depression br Frightens me at night br With heartbreaking images br Of relationships breaking br As violently as windows in a hurricane br Or with tender memories of lovely cats and a golden retriever br Who have long ago entered the grave; br I awake in tears and look under my bed br For my cherished and perished pets. br br But two weeks ago, I had a dream that felt like a vision, br It was as clear as the azure sky br And it awakened me instantly like my mother’s voice br Calling to me to get ready for school when I was a small boy. br In the dream, I was doing my favorite activity, br Listening to music, playing one disc after another. br I first played something by Lucinda Williams, br I then put on an album by Tom Waits: br br Tom sang with a crystalline clarity that his voice in real life would never allow br And he sang, “Mary Oliver was looking for a husband br But found a poet.” br br This line has been running ceaselessly through my mind ever since, br I’d tell it to Mary if I could find her.