For My Daughter
Ah, my little one, you ask big questions
Dreams are a tricky business at best
Real and unreal at the same time
It's hard for even the scientist to describe, for how do you measure an unreal reality?
I don't won't to confuse you, my tiny heart
Remember when that fever grabbed a hold on you? You shivered and shook all night as I held cool wet towels to your head and you said you felt like you were sleeping on top of a picket fence? And when those endless hours passed and the fever broke you crawled onto my chest and slept in peace. You woke and asked what happened? Then you said, I was there with you dad. It seems so faraway now.
That, my heart, is what dreams are like. They're awful, confused jumbles, of life. And the best part is when you wake from them to another day.