Dream Seams

Summer dreams
torn through, it seems
so long ago, those honeysuckle stained memories
of sun-drenched, Banana Boat smelling moments
                                                                          shared with friends high on life and too much ice cream,
it seems so long ago, this dream.

Before Heineken & Carlsberg,
and the tang of Asahi,
We had only Sprite floats & imaginary butter beer,
and the smear of too flourescent cherry popsicles on our lips,
this I miss, the kiss of childhood.

I miss you too, dear friend,
before boyfriends & ambiguous guy friends,
you were the sister I never had, so close we melded
and welded together,
hair braiding and card trading the only activities we loved,
that gift from above,
childhood.

Summer dreams,
gone now it seems,
I want to relive those mosquito-bitten, Drumstick ice cream screams,
midnight frisbee, tree-climbing nonsense,
watching stars embark on midnight rendevouz,
while we lie side-by-side, best friends on summer vacation,
no boys, no drinking, no sinking in self-pity or regret,
and yet

Summer dreams
are so close now it seems,
to see us again, renewed by Him,
dipped in deep blue cyan and violet gray,
His voice that calls me to the day,
My May bringing, still small voice,
                                                   whispering, "I love you. You are loved. I love you."

Over & over & over again,
I cannot hope to wallow or swallow pain,
when I hear such sweet music
that crickets sing in the dusk and swallows in the morning,
the sound of soaring,
and pouring rain,
Your voice in my ear, cheering me, searing me with Your love.

I love you. You love me, Creator of all those sun-drenched, mosquito-bitten, smitten memories,
white linen sheets draped in lemon scent, a hint of cinnamon in morning pancakes,
that ache of running too fast and too hard,
the shard of broken shell that fell from the ocean,
you are the motion in my veins,
and the spring in my shoelaces...

but most of all, You are my God,
the lover of my soul,
wholly, Holy of holies,
You are the swing in my step,
the sinew of my bone,
You knit me together in my mother's womb,

All consuming fire and the desire of my heart,
renew the passion of my soul for only you again,
for I am too weak and weary,
only a child, dreaming of summer long gone,
but You are a God, long sung and dreamt of,
the morning, mourning dove.

Your word breathes life into my bones,
your well-honed words swords that bury into bones,
I long for the song that you sing to me, over me, that you rejoice in me,
I miss You, I long for You, I call to You

My God
who melts these popsicle summer loves for something far higher above,
My God, the sparrow and the dove,
whose wings welcome the morning.