03 January 2021

Prescience

This morning, I woke up from a dream--I know, but bear with me, it's worth it. 

I dreamt I was in bed and had gotten an idea for a poem. I was all excited, so I got up and told Nick all about it. I was chattering as I got my computer up and running. I wrote it out, saved it, and woke up. 

I was super disappointed it wasn't real. It was a nice poem, I thought. But, the sun was shining, the room was warm, and I could smell chicken korma for tonight that Nick was preparing ahead of time. So, I got up and promptly forgot about the whole thing. 

This afternoon, I remembered it all. The dream, the poem, the waking. And I remembered something else too--I already wrote this poem. I was sure of it. 

In an entry from 11 April, 2019, I found it. Here it is:

Waking Up

Waking up next to you to find
you opening your eyes
at the same time
is a wonderful feeling.

The room is quiet, 
muted by the blanket of snow
slowly growing outside.

The radiator hisses
as our kisses begin to steam
up the window.

The ice will melt from the roof
if we stay just ten more minutes.
The only house on the street
not covered with a thick frost,
steam rising from the shingles.

At the time I wrote this, I was trying to do a poem a day for National Poetry Month in 2019. It was something I wrote sort of off-hand. A character poem, from a perspective other than mine. I'd never lived anywhere with radiators before, and thinking back, there was no snow on the ground when I wrote it. Nick and I were still doing the long distance thing to boot.

This afternoon however, I thought back to when I woke up today. My dressing gown lay on the radiator, muffling the trickling sounds of the pipes that lead to it. And it was so bright because the sun was glinting off the snow covering the world outside. 

It probably doesn't mean anything other than I should be writing more, and editing more. But, I can't help but feel that it's just so... prescient. It's not like my poetry predicted some huge, cataclysmic world event. But, I'm here now. With my partner. In a place with radiators and, right now, snow. And I'm happy.