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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: subconscious themes

  • Just Before I Arrive – A Dream Poem About Longing, Connection, and Almost Finding Her

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Some dreams don’t feel random.

    They feel intentional.

    Like you’re being led somewhere–through places that don’t exist, but still feel familiar. Like every step means something, even if you don’t understand it yet.

    This piece comes from that kind of dream.

    The kind where you’re not just wandering–you’re following.

    Following a feeling. A voice. A pull that feels personal.

    And just as you get close enough to understand it–

    you wake up.

    — Rowan Evans

    Dreamlike city street at night with distant glowing figure in soft haze
    Somewhere between the dream and the waking world—she was waiting.

    Just Before I Arrive
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    In my dreams last night,
    I wandered unfamiliar
    city streets—

    the lights humming
    like they knew me,
    though I’d never
    walked there before.

    Every corner
    felt like a memory
    I hadn’t lived yet,
    pulling me deeper
    into the maze.

    That’s when
    I heard it—

    her voice,
    off in the distance.

    Another thread
    in the pull.

    Her words
    echoing through—

    Come find me.
    I won’t be hiding.

    This is an invitation—
    from me to you.

    With every word,
    I moved closer
    to the source.

    But just before
    I arrived—

    I sat up,
    opened my eyes,

    and rejoined
    the waking world.

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • The Voice in the Haze | A Dreamlike Poem About Being Called and Finding Connection

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This piece came from a dream that didn’t feel like it wanted to stay a dream.

    There’s a strange feeling that comes with certain moments–where something feels unfamiliar, but not new. Like you’re not discovering something, but remembering it.

    This poem lives in that space.

    Between wandering and being called.
    Between searching and being found.

    And in that moment where everything quiets just enough for you to hear something that feels meant for you–where you understand it yet or not.

    — Rowan Evans

    Person walking through a hazy dreamlike city toward a glowing figure, symbolizing a mysterious voice calling them
    Some voices don’t introduce themselves—
    they feel like something you’ve always known.

    The Voice in the Haze
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I had a dream last night—
    I was wandering
    blurry streets,
    not a fog
    but a haze.
    It felt like I had been
    wandering for days.

    Everything felt foreign,
    yet familiar—
    and every sound
    I had heard before.

    Every step
    echoed louder
    as I marched
    with purpose.

    Until I was stopped
    in my tracks—

    I heard it,
    an angel’s voice.
    It called to me.

    Slowly,
    my footsteps
    faded
    until her voice
    was all I could hear.

    The haze thinned,
    as if the world itself
    was holding its breath,
    waiting for me
    to turn toward her.

    And so—
    I did.

    My heart stilled,
    caught between fear
    and something softer,
    something that felt
    like remembering.

    Eyes locked—
    hers
    and mine.

    She smiled.
    I softened.

    Step
    after step,
    I drew closer.

    Until her hand
    met my cheek,
    and I fell
    to my knees—
    tired,
    exhausted
    from wandering,
    searching.

    A single finger—
    that’s all it took,
    and we were
    eye to eye
    again.

    “Rowan,”
    her voice sounded distant,
    even though
    she stood right in front of me.
    “Come to me.
    Come see
    the Philippines.”

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]