Dreams

Last night while I lay sleeping, I succumbed to endless dreams. Where my imagination was stretched, to limitless extremes. Where mice and men and all such things, could freely fraternise, and every God made glory, was set forth before my eyes. Though lay I in soundest sleep, my soul took to the sky, where in unspoken language, birds taught me how to fly! Though I’d no wings I soared, as the lightest feather must, to float with weightless abandonment, as does the mote of dust! Above Earth’s sweeping panorama, I wandered as I chose. Watching, though unseen, to pause in abstract repose. With the hush descending, when darkest night is nigh, I sought that illusive moment, which no one dare descry. Here and there I tarried, as occasion would demand. Finding it most fitting, to humour such inquisitive command, it gave me opportunity, to view the future and the past. Though moulded in chaotic confusion, it’s how our dreams are cast. But quickly fascination fades: the moment brushed aside. Scenes return to oblivion, as are footprints, banished by the tide. Thus it is with dreams, that torment the restive mind. There is no logic to explain, nor reason we might find. Soon I sensed an urgency, over which I had no control or say, as thoughts reaching into fantasy, had need to move away. Back to the unknown future, where once awakened from sleep, I tried in desperation, to recall such moments I would keep. But such is the way of dreams, that fleeting come and go, Few are the memories recalled, that they would have us know, Within scant moments of waking, their visions leave our head, until the morrow’s night, when fresh illusions take their stead!