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Dream Walker ©

This poem is dedicated to my Scottish brother John, because as usual nothing is left for us but long distance phone calls, and to all of my relatives and friends who encourage me to carry on with my Caledonian dream.
Sonja Nic Rafferty

I am not able to cope with the missing hopes of these days.
Cumulus clouds gather together at that clear firmament.
The bright colours of a flowerbed cause pain in my eyes,
Clouds drift past, blossoms fade and luck comes to an end.
I dare to dream the dreams I want to dream.
When our soul is uprooted the seed of contrariness puts out shoots,
I dare to disagree, with everybody, with you and also with me.
My idealism reduces with your silence and changeable moods.
Are our craziness and persuasion too piled up for reality?
Laughter died away in the overgrowing garden of mutual cheerfulness.

Let's give you my signs
I try to read between your lines
Whatever happens to me
I'll never forget your declaration and
Auld lang syne!

Once more linger to plant our laughter and fragility
On a lovely little Celtic spot, our ideas, our heart and scheme!
When it comes to dying no questions should be left for you and me.
I dare to dream the dreams I want to dream,
But we cannot stick up fallen leaves on the tree.
Again I want to hear those encouraging words you used to say,
Once spoken in good faith between our old and new life.
Again I want to be the tracker of your footsteps, now blown away.
How to hold out the nostalgia and not to fly blind to Caledonia's Fife?
I could and would see the beauty of a day in May if only you hear me.

Give me your signs
Read between my lines
Whatever happens to you
Never forget my declaration and
Auld lang syne!

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