Tangled Dreams copyright 1987 by Tracy Marks We entangled our dreams together, and in doing so entwined our souls. Our common dream was an extension of us; it took root and grew and blossomed like a sunflower, stretching high above the earth, watered by devotion to a mission which transcended ourselves. How I sought that psychic merging, that common vision. How I fed off that liquid magic, expecting that the rain would replenish the waters of early spring, unprepared for the ravages of a sudden storm. And the death of that dream, rooted deep within the recesses of my being, the violent rending of a flower before summer was a greater loss than losing you. I won't twist another in my dream again. And you who enter now, nurture your own dream while I nurture mine. And when our dreams meet, let us be like flowers sharing the same sun, the same wind, the same rain, nodding and brushing our petals against each other, rejoicing in our togetherness, affirming our uniqueness, retaining our separateness.

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