Coming to Me

I have memories of dreams yet to come.
I see them
dancing before my eyes;
unfolding slowly
at first,
and then crashing
rhythmically
one on top
of the other
until
they are tangled
together
in a heap.
They pour
down,
strong
in technicolor,
and I am washed
over
and over.
I am open,
so open
to receive
them
finally.
And so they come,
finally
they come,
and we dance,
fused
together;
the blessings
and me