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Dream Poem with a Bat and the Buddha

by Margaret Hasse

A rainstorm is turning the roof

of my house into cardboard.

Water leaks inside my house

and onto a dollhouse

where a tiny child and her parents

are placing pot, pans

and a dog bowl under the drips.

I wake screaming

with the wing of a bat on my face

only a sweep of curtain.

I don't know whether I'm a child

or parent, whether to be

amused or worried.

Bats, homes, and the meaning

of dreams are brief and temporary.

The Buddha says do not grasp.

Spring rain is breathing in, breathing out

its sweet breath.