I got it bad and that ain't good

Visions of dancing beneath the trees and gliding along the river dance in my head. And then there's the Wicked Tinkers luring me out under the full moon. Gosh. I must dance. Let me go!

Song of the Day: The Rant - Wicked Tinkers

a dream about a poem

I dreamed that a man was reading a long poem just out of my line of sight. A man with a nice, warm voice. He was reading slowly with a deep complicated emotional reverence. He read carefully three times as if he were memorizing or maybe preparing for a presentation. As he read it the third time, I following along silently, knowing all the words. When I woke up all I could remember was:
she adjusts me
hands that heal
hands of faith

I wrote the words down during breakfast. The dream has been haunting me all day. I feel a need to report it. So, here it is.