In Dream Country

Walking the dirt road to the beach,
I hear a faint sound up ahead.
It grows in volume
as I move toward its source,
recognizing mournful cries.

Rounding the bend,
I see in the distance
white shapes
on a black background,

right where long ago I surprised
a bull alligator taking a nap
and he roared, just like a lion.

Four swans, buried up to their long, slim necks,
try to free themselves from the mud.
Their heart-piercing cries give voice
to the pain of all suffering beings.

Frozen in my steps,
I watch them struggle.
Who will free the swans,
Oh, who will free the swans?

by Max Reif

Comments (2)

Dear Pradeep, I looked up 'alligator' and 'roar' on Google, because I was never sure if the alligator had roared or swished its mighty tail. The article I found said that alligators really do roar like lions. You still don't have to like it, of course. Maybe I won't either at some point, who knows?
And what (says the therapist beside the couch does this mean to you? Would the poem be stronger if you explored what the dream means to you? Perhaps. Give it a try and let me know. The two kinds of animals within one poem are intriguing and haunting. Raynette