Dream of Hanging Rock Edit

Dream of Hanging Rock
I awoke to this once, but slipped unnoticed into dreams again:
I was sitting at the cliffs edge; you stood behind me.
Surely you saw the hawks turning in the wind below
just as I felt its constant flow running over my back.
And looking at the valleys and mountains surrounding,
I didn’t see the wide rocks supporting me beneath,
and my worse half wanted to forget them, leave them,
join the flock of curving lines in this painting before me.
In reverie, I could escape as one of them, or even as you.

But you told me the hills were more beautiful as they rolled on;
you pointed out the trees reaching with green towards spring.
Remember when the ground stepped from view, replaced by these:
the distant towns, the patchwork fields, the road home?
My knees became weak and that’s when I knelt down.
If I was once afraid of this height, I was more terrified of myself.
I didn’t believe you wanted to be me, or anyone else,
until you yourself told me you dreamed of flying.
Thank you; I won’t forget that in essence you are me, in the end.
We’re getting up now; we’re slowly coming down.

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Not that many people have read the original... but I thought I'd post the changed version up here anyway. Enjoy.