Awake In the Dream

I’m no Neo, have no special powers, but it happens, a person finds that inner voice that speaks inside his own then in time, eyes become two-way mirrors they see behind the thing seen where perception falters and clarity waits to be revealed. The world is still the same as it has always portrayed itself to be. It remains the dominant vision. The paint on the canvas is still there, but, and here’s the difference, you know it’s a picture, a pentimento an overlaying upon an under image. Sometimes the real jumps through the matrix of a collective reality. Then the sleeper awakes, seams break open, and the poetry of discernment shows a new face.