Member-only story
Last Night I Dreamed of Obama
a poem about remembering
Last night I dreamed of Obama. He asked
for my help and I was honored to be included.
I remembered sleeping at night knowing
I was safe, knowing that when I woke
there would be no announcements of war
on the radio, no reports of erratic instability
no sudden gutting of hard-won protections.
There are so many people around him, Obama told me,
But you have that special talent that’s needed
right now. He had always known I’d been around,
keeping quiet, doing my work, waiting.
His voice was like golden oil, moving like a river
through my dream. He spoke of hopes and fears
and courage and time and I believed him
as I’ve always believed him.
My best was what he wanted, nothing else would do.
The reasons set, the stage being readied by all the multitudes
of believers and hopefuls, I now had a place and a promise to keep
A reason to go on, to believe, to shine without worry or stress
There was room for me, and I finally belonged.
Last night I dreamed of Obama and when I awoke
his voice still rang in my head. Steadfastness and hope,
he had said, and the courage to see it through.
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Copyright 2019 Marguerite Floyd all rights reserved
