I Colored a Dream Today

Good evening (here in US anyway) everyone… I haven’t posted in a few days. Although I’d intended (hmm…) to write “one poem a day in April,” I have not been up to doing so and decided to let that be okay. But here is one I just wrote. I believe that my poetry, like many of the other poets’ works I’ve loved, streams through me, bringing up from my subconscious  , well, who knows what? There’s a story behind this one but sometimes… well we write in metaphors so why give it all away? Besides, I love open interpretation. It happens anyway, no matter what we explain, whether we’re writing or speaking or just having dinner, everyone walks away with a different perspective. And that is the most heart-healing poetry of all. That’s the reason I really share it. I am so happy to be here on WordPress and so thankful for those who liked some of my posts and those who are following my work. I feel the inspiration here, the camaraderie, and I love it. If you haven’t heard from me when you’ve been so kind to “like” or “follow,” please know your words and actions of encouragement mean so much to me! Happy soul-digging! P.S. To all Rumi lovers out there, you may note his influence on me at the end of this one.


I colored a dream today
orange yellow blue gold
I colored my own dream
not his, the one whose hands I still feel
wrapped around
my neck

but not in a good way

it never really is, you know
why does sex look like wrestling
why do we scream in anguish
why do we hurt each other
and still say yes
and still say yes?

His dreams creep into mine
his faults become my own
and prophecies, I can no longer say he was wrong
but then, why the colors?
why the angels?
why do they tell me

that the past is not what I remember
and even if it was, it is only
the colors
the gold and the blue
the yellow and orange
that remain real and true?

I am

not who I thought I was
who he (representing all, truth be told, as it must)
told me I was

pierced through the membrane of my mind
convinced me none could survive
the turbulent crimes committed there

and yet, I sit here –
about to do it again – break another vow
and I know this time

dammit, in my heart in my soul in my body I know
that it has to be done
and that I am the one to do it
I will break another heart
besides my own
but they never think of mine when theirs is torn

So, leave me to my destiny
even if you do not understand
that all is as it should be

and I will do what I must, I will face anyone – anyone –
even you, my Beloved,
especially you,

always, always you

Lady Diane Randall


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