I wake in the night.
“Do we have any water Will?”
In my dream I cannot answer,
The bottle is there, but my arms won’t work.
I strain, willing them to move, but they won’t.
I wake in the night.
James’s gentle voice fades.
The echoes stay and blur my day with sadness.
I do not fear the dream; I love to hear his voice.
Listening to - Parce Mihi Domine - Jan Garbarek and The Hilliard Ensamble