One night I dreamed I was in a cave.
It was damp and smelled of wet stone.
I was just inside its opening, and outside, I saw
A cove and beach that was just before day.

I walked through the cave door and into early morning,
I could smell the ocean, hear the waves lapping
All very tranquil, all very serene.
No cars or jet noise or beach goers there.

Every cell in my body absorbed what I sensed
It was all such peace, then to the edge of my ear
a new sound came, not out of place, yet
quite surprising. Cloppety-clippity-clop, I turned

at the sound of a large horse pulling a wagon
down a gently sloping hill on a road I hadn't seen.
Being driven by a wide, muscled farm man.
He was smiling with suspenders and straw hat just right.

I looked down, and the road was cobblestone
Why was I new here, yet very much at home?
I followed this road which led from the beach
over a tiny bridge and into the town.

The town unfolded as Sun rose with dawn
Two young women in dresses homespun
shared pink looks, giggles suppressed
as two young men hovered round them like bees.





Well, I reasoned, I am not at the mall, as I noticed
girls' crisp, white caps, coiled hair, all demure.
The boys' broad fall pants and brown woolen jackets
And all around, the lack of buzz and modern sounds.

A non-electric world, but bright, face-to-face.
I wondered not where I was but when.
Then turning around, I was a child again, standing
in the house of my caregiver, my wizened old aunt.

She shooed me out the door, with knowing, twinkling
eyes.
"Now walk carefully through those city streets: she said
"And have lots of fun at school", wink, wink, oh, yes
I see. But now, the streets are gritty, worn, traffic-dense.

I scamper down them, skipping along with other children now.
We turn a noisy corner to find we have stepped into a cave
damp with spring water, smelling of stone.
My child-heart, the portal, into the bright world.