Down In A Dream

Down In A Dream

( Lines for Anahit Arustamyan, poet of Armenia, author of My Wandering Muse, My Lyrical Tongue and The Phantom’s Dolphin )

The Armenian mountains,
I come down in a dream,
cross an old stone bridge,
step stones to ford a stream.
The wilderness is silent,
none could hear my call.
Before I wake, I look up,
see your portrait on a wall.

In dreams, no need for passports,
train time tables, money in your pocket.
I come home from Armenia
with your portrait in a locket.

In your lines speaks the soul of your land,
like a lit lamp it shines in your hand.


2 thoughts on “Down In A Dream”

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