Often we predicate our dreams on the actions of others. We set out to do things with the express intent of sharing them with someone in particular. Once the work has begun, there is no viable way to turn back, even when the obvious presents itself: The person with whom we mean to share them is absent.
Mantra inspired House on the Hill after seeing more than a few who had built lifetime commitments have those dreams deflate because the ones meant to share in the reverie chose to be absent or died before the fruition. This poem is dedicated to all those whose crowning achievements are tainted with the sadness of accomplishing them alone.
House on the Hill
With downcast eyes and an empty heart,
For from its crack seeped my soul,
I am still and quiet.
Resting here, tired from the climb,
Looking down from the lonely pinnacle,
Wondering why I came.
From below I saw the home,
In which I wanted our household,
But you are not here yet.
The curtains are drawn and shades down tight.
Waiting in the dark for my miracle
Of us being together, one in the same.
(c) Ann Marie Dwyer
Have you seen this house? Was it ever yours?