Allina of my dream, maker of the Ten Thousand Falls,
What came you to say to me, to tear down what walls?
So close, so noble, so means your name, but why for me,
One who lives not by his born-given identity?
To tell me of your babe, in letters written above gift
Never opened by me to see, to leave but mystery to sift?
What is this new aberration, this soul-mystic creation?
Accusation or acclamation? Your gift was meant to lift,
Your message your kindly farewell, though we never met,
And never I set eyes upon you, but you’ve cast your net;
Now am I caught, forever bought by one never sought,
And how has this come but in dream to one never taught
Subtle ways of mystic days, vision-nights, angelic-lights,
But left to ponder in wonder, who you are …
Allina of the Ten Thousand Falls?
Note: Originally published in July 2015, this poem was inspired by a fading dream early one morning when I was still half-asleep. So far as memory serves, this is the only time this has happened. At any rate, the “Allina of Ten Thousand Falls,” as well as the content of this work, comes from the fragments of that dream. Now being republished due to some renewed interest and also for new readers-followers to enjoy. Blessings to one and all!