IMPOSSIBLE DREAM, A Lover's Question

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IMPOSSIBLE DREAM,
A Lover’s Question        

I have an astounding dream to report.

It has me running down a long hall in the semi-darkness

With a key in my hand. It's a cylindrical key,

And on its end it has a single, protruding notch,

The type of a key used to wind an antique clock.

Mounted to the wall at the end of my run stands

A giant, three-dimensional cartoon heart.

Although hand-painted, it has a natural color.

It seems the skin of a Red Delicious apple.

On the right at the top of this wondrous heart

A gold-metal strike plate sets up over against

An aperture, the channel; I wonder if it leads

To the lock that might open, release your heart?

Have I the key? Or do I dream only to wake,

Awaken to nightmare day of awful longing and ache?

Have I lost my mind? Has logic betrayed me?

Do I confuse dream wish with reality?

Darling, answer me soon! Does my deep desire

Verge on truth? Will anxiety cease?

The promise of a new, peaceful kingdom

Is it to be fulfilled, here, in the affirmative today?

Now I stand before you, You, Love, my higher power,

And the congregates sense the blasphemy;

They whisper calumnies.

They say that I am my father’s son,

“He is the boy from the hardware store!

By whose authority has he the right to reveal,

Who does he believe -- just who might he think he is

When he revels in his midnight imaginings?”

And me, their belligerence,

The hostility of the locals does not concern me,

Not a whit, though they rise up

And ready to condemn me.

I pray ... I might have definite answer,

That I am prophet in this house,

That I may begin this, my public ministry, positive,

Carry hope for life anew,

And have news extraordinary, good, for all to hear.

Down a space eclipsed in semi-darkness, I run.

I have a key in my hand. It's cylindrical;

A single notch protrudes at its end.

It seems the kind of key that winds an antique clock.

Darling, please, your answer!

Have I the key to open your heart,

Or do I dream the impossible dream?