Old poem still in progress...

Jesus used to talk to me in my dreams and then I stopped believing.

When I was little
and everything was scary,
He would come
and lead me to the place
where I belonged.
I would follow him
over hills,
down through valleys.
When we got there,
it was beautiful and warm.
The colors were vivid;
the feelings were even more vivid.
He would sit and talk to me
and there, at his side,
hearing his soothing voice,
in this place that was pleasure,
I could feel his compassion
beyond all intensities.

Then I stopped believing.

And when I was little,
I would see angels,
two of them standing
at either side of my bed.
They were my guardians,
creating comfort for sleep
and thoughts of dreams
in which Jesus would come
and lead me away again.

There was another angel,
statuesque and hopeful,
imprinted on a hillside.
I saw her in the mornings
as I was driven from my home,
safe and warm,
to a place that created disbelief
in the form of knowledge
and religion
and discipline
and growth.
When I saw her upon that hillside
blowing her trumpet,
looking even more holy after rain,
I knew.
I just knew.

Then I stopped believing.

On days when the skies were dark
But the sun still illuminated the clouds,
I would wait and watch for Jesus.
I knew that he was going to appear on one of those perfect clouds
as it descended from the sky.
I waited and listened for the trumpet to blow
as I had been told again and again that it would
when Jesus returned to save us one final time,
taking us to a better place.
I felt in my heart that it would happen on a day like that
On a cloud just like that
And I knew that he had to be coming soon
He just had to,
But he never did.

And then I stopped believing.

Later in life, when I was alone and lonely
I would pray and pray for God to send me someone to love.
I would thank him for giving me so many friends,
But I needed more.
I needed it.
And one night I had a dream
Of an angel standing at my bedside.
The angel talked to me plainly.
I was meant to be alone.
I had a purpose from which I could not be distracted.
I never figured out what that purpose was
And I couldn’t forgive a God that wanted to keep me lonely.

Then I stopped believing.