IMPOSSIBLE DREAM, A Lover's Question

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IMPOSSIBLE DREAM,
A Lover’s Question


I have an astounding dream to report.
It has me running down a long hall in the semi-darkness
With a key in my hand. It's a cylindrical key,
And on its end it has a single, protruding notch,
The type of a key used to wind an antique clock.

Mounted to the wall at the end of my run stands
A giant, three-dimensional cartoon heart.
Although hand-painted, yet its color so natural,
It rivals the red of a Red Delicious apple.

On the right at the top of this wondrous heart
A gold-metal strike plate sets up over against
An aperture, the channel; I wonder if it leads
To the lock that might open, release your heart?





Have I the key? Or do I dream only to wake,
Awaken to nightmare day of awful longing and ache?

Have I lost my mind? Has logic betrayed me?
Do I confuse dream wish with reality?

Darling, answer me soon! Does my deep desire
Verge on truth? Will anxiety cease?
The promise of a new, peaceful kingdom
Is it to be fulfilled, here, in the affirmative today?

Now I stand before you, You, my Higher Power,
And the congregates sense the blasphemy;
They whisper calumnies.
They say that I am my father’s son,

“He is the boy from the hardware store!
By whose authority has he the right to reveal,
Who does he believe, who might he think
He is when he informs us his midnight imaginings?”

And me, their belligerence,
The hostility of the locals does not concern me,
Not a whit, though they rise up
And ready to condemn me.
I pray ... I might have definite answer,
That I am prophet in this house,
That I may begin this, my public ministry, positive,
Carry hope for life anew,
And have news extraordinary, good, for all to hear.

Down a space eclipsed in semi-darkness, I run.
I have a key in my hand. It's cylindrical;
A single, notch protrudes at its end.
It is the kind of key that winds an antique clock.
Darling, please, your answer!
Have I the key to open your heart,
Or do I dream the impossible dream?