Drawing (on) our dreams

When I describe

the characters in Super Why

diving into books

to change the story

and save the day

your face lights up:

you've done just that

with your younger daughter

when nightmares tore her

from her sleep

she'd tell you tearfully

about the bad green man

and you'd draw him

on your biggest sketchpad

and then scrawl him out

or adorn him

with silly hats

a feather boa, a banana

her laughter the talisman

that banished him for good

this week the Torah's

bedecked with dreams:

Joseph's dreams

the cupbearer's dream

the Pharaoh's dream

how different

would our story be

if, when Joseph brought

his dreams of the sheaves

bowing down before him

his parents had said

let's draw that dream together

here on this parchment

then write a new story

for you and your brothers

without their wounds

what would have set

the spheres in motion

to bring us down

so we could be raised up?

 

 

This Torah poem arises out of the confluence of this week's portion (which is replete with dreams and the interpretation of dreams) and a conversation I had with a dear friend over lunch about ways of soothing a child's nightmares.

I can't help feeling that the Joseph story needed to happen exactly the way it did in order for all of its outcomes to unfold. But I'm grateful that we have ways of working with dreams to lessen some of the anxious power they may hold.

I don't usually post poems in html tables like this, but I like the visual prosody of the two columns of stanzas playing off of each other. I can format the poem that way in my word processor, but couldn't find a better way to do it in-blog.

All comments welcome, as always.