My Other Half

I sleep and dream you’re with me,
Then I wake and dream you’re not;
My every dream with certainties
That prove to be their opposite.

It’s when I’m drifting in and out
I’ve often wished you’d spare me
From your familiar second thoughts
And gently shared misgivings,

Though lately when you’re lingering
It comforts me to guess
Your soul believes my sleeping dream
To be your home address.

One day I’ll dream you’re with me
And the dream won’t come to pass.

About Brad Frederiksen

Engineer and analyst of electro-mechanical and digital systems by day job. Practitioner and student of life and art (broadly construed). View all posts by Brad Frederiksen

6 responses to “My Other Half

  • Cynthia Jobin

    For me, this has a very lovely mystical quality to it, Brad. It puts me in mind of the Greek myth that a human originally had four legs, four arms, etc. and had to be cut in half for the gods’ fear of its power….and so we each wander about, seeking our other half. As Plato says in the Symposium:

    “Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature.”

    • Brad

      Thanks, Cynthia. When the poem was near completion I felt that mystical quality too. It is a very different poem compared to the one I set out to complete, and I was pleasantly surprised by it.

      That speech of Aristophanes re the constitution and modifications of man is fascinating, and very entertaining. It is just as well that Zeus was satisfied with the result of his bisection, for “If there is any sign of wantonness in them after that, and they will not keep quiet, I will bisect them again, and they shall hop on one leg.”

  • John Looker

    Cynthia Jobin is right, Brad. There’s a lovely mystical quality in these lines.

  • kathi

    it’s like a delicate process of discernment of the highest order, that is, separating/uniting personality and soul. but dangerous as the edge of a stage or precipice, nonetheless fascinating, i think it’s a beautiful poem.

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