She visits in my dreams,
A place that I love to go,
For when my body is sleeping;
My subconscious starts to show.
She is not the same as when I’m awake,
She is fierce and unafraid;
She watches over the pillows,
Where my head is soundly laid.
She has wings just like an Angel,
Only hers are made of light;
With brilliant rainbow hues,
Enough to shine throughout the night.
To me she looks much older,
Maybe even wise;
One look at me and I know,
She can see right through my lies.
For her and I are one,
No hiding from the truth;
She understands that I’m growing,
Developing from my youth.
She never passes judgment,
For herself would be included;
Her thoughts are always brilliant;
And never convoluted.
I’m referring to my soul;
Aged throughout my lives.
She gives my words their meanings;
And my body is what she drives.
Inspiring my movements,
And wiping all of my tears;
Her voice is mine but rings through,
My head and out my ears.
Perhaps it’s her who is writing this,
Giving me the rhyme;
My subconscious and my consciousness;
Working together for all of time.
Although most won’t understand this,
That it is about a different part of me,
Tonight under the full-moon;
I’m setting my spirit free.
Allowed to dance in the stars,
And run across the sky;
Only to return to our body,
Suppressing her urge to fly.