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Dead White Things and Recurring Dreams

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Below is the poem entitled Dead White Things and Recurring Dreams which was written by poet dave archuletta. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Dead White Things and Recurring Dreams

‘Although she forever tried, never once had any scenes from this recurring dream 
differ with even a slightest of variance from each original beginning. The only things 
that changed was its outcome ending and the never ever still - wanderings of the 
sea ice! 
It always began with her looking out into the vastness of a cold Arctic Ocean while 
standing on the weather darkening coastline somewhere on Nova Scotia. There and 
then is when heard are these far off windblown cries:
 Suddenly, it is her eyes that can now spy from new heights above to see a likeness 
of her same person being physically swept up and taken captive by a storm’s ocean 
going gales.  
To her horror, instantly realized is that she had been herself carried off, and now 
wind bound on an emotional heading with an aim toward a certain point in time. 
Incapable, is the power of her mind to stop this meeting, its draw demands her 
rushed presence! 
What will prove to be laying in wait will have an effect on her soul that initiates the 
loosing of a fifth year of welled up tears.  Somewhere out there on this desolate sea 
ice there is a new place and new time of another true motherhood loss. - And now 
as always, being nightly reborn to face her life’s tragic turn of unwarranted 
consequence, she sleeps…?
Ever the survivor, she would now dream the dreamt dreams of a lonely orphaned 
seal pup and the last outcome of yet another nightmare confrontation coming from 
out of a traumatic childhood era belonged of her past…
These hurts were placed upon them through no fault of their own! As such, there 
was nothing new to balance except an even greater weight pinned on two helpless 
souls. Wearily, both shared the burden of pain that came tethered to each of their 
world’s constant of nightmare...’
And now, to save the future of a stark white seal pup, her thoughts echoed of both 
their loneliness. Only now, those once far and away heard cries had grown louder…
As for her nights of continually repeated visions of this ghostly Harp Seal pup, 
recognized, was that it hadn’t hailed from a performing circus act. Moreover, and 
unlike any of the other identical looking orphaned seal pups on the Arctic ice, for this 
one, appeal came not from knowing of its at-one-time snow-white fur. – Instead, it 
was the two sad eyes that never looked away from her that had always drawn the 
little girl’s unwilling attention...

Copyright © dave archuletta

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