Dreams

Every wonder where they come from? I’m just glad that I still get some. Sometimes they’re pleasant and seem good, sometimes vague and misunderstood. At times they’re funny or bizarre, like riding on a shooting star. Often it seems they’re teaching me, past life lessons I didn’t see. Sometimes one seems like dejavu, in another time I was you. Then there was one, I wasn’t a man, my whole body was made of sand. Dreams are intriguing, so much fun. Recurring dreams are never done.