Dreams within dreams

In deep, lucid dreams, to our mind it seems, that we’re a form coarse, separate from source. Senses five and mind, grip us in a bind and thus hypnotised, truth’s not realised. Dreams in dreams unfold, tales of old retold, in a new disguise, until ego dies. In thought cessation, one with creation, untied from mind’s tree, soul’s finally free. Distanced from thought din, we find bliss within, tranquil and at peace, turning a new leaf. Who we are is light, shining day and night, made in God’s image, known when we’re of age.