6 Am and 4 Days Left
I hide from you ‘till sunrise.
The paling of the sky betrays me.
By day, reality turns the key
on fantastic creations of the mind,
but the night douses the flicker of reason.
In the night, miles are mere steps
and truth removes its costume
and, for once, leaves center stage
to mingle with the shadow creatures.
Why hide from limited opportunity?
Why does my lamp hold captive visions?
That night could be day,
and the dreamer dream on
with clouds as her walkway.
But dreams cannot satisfy, only intensify
a storybook ache reaching forward and back
where no fairy tales were found
because reality was night.
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