These are lyrics to a song I wrote shortly after my dad passed away. Sadly, I just discovered that someone I hadn’t seen in quite a while, but still very dear to me, had died night before last.
It reminded me of a beautiful, yet terrible, dream I had where I had what seemed a kind of omniscient perspective. My daughter was still very young, and I could see her and my lovely wife, but only as a satellite or a cloud would.
The more lucid the dream became the more beautiful it was, but it also became clear I was no longer a part of their world.
My wife looked up and, for a moment, our eyes met. She began to gently cry and said the last line of the song.
That’s when I woke up … Or did I?
Robert Müller and the Way Home
Lie down in the yarrow of the field
Let yourself be swallowed
By waves of deep green
And lose the notion that it all might be a dream
Upon new grass, become a love supreme
An unfortunate soul trying to break through
Caught in the power lines of a fortunate few
Say a prayer for me in loving memory
Of all I was, and all I meant to be
It’s raining in the streets of London
I can feel it from the fringes of this desert town
Lonely as a cloud, I wander ’round without a sound …
Can you feel me?
Lie down as summer sounds retreat
Adrift onAugust’s ocean
Draw in your relief
If you dare to dream andshake the tether free
When you decide you’ll find a love supreme
Oh, the sky’s alive when she looks for me
With the kindest eyes she says goodbye
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