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(“Dark Pool of Light Nebula”, 2011, original oil)

The Space of Dreams

The space of dreams is a mysterious place.
Where exactly is it? Some would quickly say
Only within the neural nets of our brains,
Where dream memories are stored,
But to say the dream itself is also there
Seems far too limiting.

In dreams I have certainly been in familiar scenes
With familiar friends and family,
But I have also gone to other realms and dimensions.
And while I habitually dream
Images impressed from this life
I have also visited scenes from the future,
And of lifetimes in the distant past.

In this life I have built a whole dream world
Of mountains and crags, villages and cities
Favorite places that I explore again and again
With an assortment of people
Many of them complete strangers
That sometimes includes me, an unknown person 
Whose eyes I only see through.

In my dreams I have also developed friendships,
And continued old ones from my youth
Which long ago fizzled out in waking time.
I have been on stage acting unfamiliar parts
I have been at school without a clue
Where my next class is, or what the final exam is about.
I have been at work, stuck in a time warp
Dealing with stuff I thought I had resolved.

In my dreams I have killed and been killed
Died from being shot, hacked, hewn and broken
I have also been healed and purified
I have felt the greatest bliss and sharpest pain
I have gone to heaven and knelt before God
I have gone to pure lands and met Buddhas
I have confronted demons
I have seen aliens in their ships and on this earth
I have seen the very first moment of creation
- how an egg hatched the first chick
by the magical power of a Celtic song -
I have swum with humpbacks and become one too
I have sat at the bottom of the ocean and breathed
I have flown like Superman and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
I have crossed time and space through bright blue portals

I have lived lifetimes in dreams within dreams
Waking within them like in a hall of mirrors.
I have messed with dream characters
Asking them who they are and where they are from
Causing them to run away in fear and denial.
I have seen the dead and felt the love we shared.

Just this morning I was talking with an old friend,
Who I haven’t seen for almost thirty-five years
And who has anyway been dead for almost five,
And we just went on and on
Yakking like we never did when we lived together.

And when I felt the familiar flood
Of something deep and complex
That encompasses gratitude and grief,
Recognition, appreciation, loss and love
I hugged her close
And told her how much I’ve missed our talks.
And as I felt overwhelmed by emotion
She responded with simply a placid gaze.

And in that gaze, like a mirror to my mind,
I recognized I was only dreaming.
And in that instant,
Found myself back in bed
Ready to get up into a world
That I know is also just a dream within a dream
And so, yet another mysterious place
In a endless hall of mirrors.


(12/18/24)
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