When I return to you, I will remember
My life before the mountain. I will soak
The western wind, the dark musky nights,
The fall, the trials, and those who played
A part all together in the river
Behind our house where I spent
Those days you were not real to me.
I will never pull them out,
Never clip them to a line to dry,
Never fold and put them away.
When I return to you, I will whisper
What I dreamed on the road
Into your ear, smooth down your wings
With the tips of my fingers and lie
In the warm curve of your body
Like a question mark followed
By parenthesis. I did not know
That I would survive, and now that I have,
I intend to retain everything,
To share it with you, to come to
The end of my dreams and open my eyes.
–Shaun Perkins
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 
love your poem !!!
if i reach the end of my dreams and open my eyes………..i know where i will be:
MOAB, UTAH
Jason, This made my day. Your comment reminds me of Yeats asking, What happens when you find your heart’s desire? I don’t know. I really don’t know!
Love this. The last line feels like an inhale and a question mark. There is a revelation and a larger awakening there. Love the mystery of it.
Thanks for the great feedback, Amy!
…come to the end of my dreams and open my eyes.
This is the point where I would like to say something more meaningful than, “Dude.” And yet…dude.
Dude. I love, love, love the poem, and the closing lines in particular. It makes me think of story – Psyche and Eros’ story, yes, but also the capital-S Story – as a dream. What happens after the dream, when the eyes are opened? What happens after “happily ever after” or and “that’s why you should not meddle in the affairs of wizards” or simply “the end”? It’s a mystery, and perhaps even more beautiful than any piece of the story that actually be written.