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.
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