The dream I lost

Last night, you visited me in my dreams. Again.
When the dreams first began, I was not surprised.
I had been waiting for them.
And you came,
with your soft satin white dress flowing and
the flower crown sweet-smelling,
looking truly like the angel you have always been.
I could spot the wild honeysuckles in the crown.
They were your favorite, weren't they? Did you know mine?
It was your rosy cheeks.
They gave you a warm healthy glow,
letting people know you were always loved and cared so dearly.

Even the dreams have not the power
to dim that glow, when you come before me.
Standing there, you look at me and smile.
Once innocent, now the smile knows something.
Slowly, you look down. I follow your eyes.
Where there was ground beneath your lovely feet,
now only dark waters remain, pulling you in.
Claiming you again, to the depths.
"No, please don't. The waters are not friendly.
Walk away from them. Take my hand," I scream.
I can't hear my own voice.
I try lending my hand. But, I can hardly reach you.
You are in a far-off land now. Away from my clutches.
Seconds pass. I scream into the vacuum, unheard.
I blink.

And wake up, my eyes tearing up and hands sweating coldly.
If I can't save you, I never will let myself
see the last of you.
I will keep waking up, and wait for you
to visit me the next night.

You come stand there, every night,
a silent picture of my life's greatest blessing.
Before my eyes, you shy out everyone.
None can be anywhere as amazing as you.
The angelic paleness, the shimmering locks,
full lips parted in curiosity, velvety black eyes,
tender palms. They have all survived the dreamland.
But, it's your heartbeat I don't hear anymore.
The music has stopped. The touch is lost.
A dull heartache is instead in place,
casting a shadow on my reality.

You were always my dream. I waited years.
To have you in my life and take care of you.
But, I returned you to dreams again.
Now, you will never come back.

You, babygirl, are the dream I lost forever.

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The dreams have never changed after that day. I can still perfectly picture the swimming arena and the cherubic 4-year olds in the pool, their arms flailing about in tubes of myriad colors. You loved the pool the first time you set your feet into it. With the ever-so-brimming confidence, you waddled in. People around were taking notice, surprised at the daring 3-year unafraid to take on the deep pool. I was a proud mother there. And I turned to listen to the praises that every other parent had for you. I knew you liked me to recite them to you later on. So, I was carefully making note of them. The devilish waters devoured you right then, behind my head. 

The mistake was mine for I let my attention desert you for a moment. I let you go, and I will never forgive myself for that. The regret of losing you is killing me from the inside. I did not deserve to be your mother, my dearest darling. You were my dream, but I was your nightmare.