Dreamscape
I am in a dream of its own making
as plaintive notes fall about me
resonating to an unknown ether.
A vapor engulfs me
and I’m in the womb of Time.
Light flashes all about me
only to break in pieces;
beneath my weak purchase
the spent particles of distance.
I lurch forward toward an opening,
but only see space that gently touches.
I probe to feel its texture,
as distant sound echoes from within ,
“touch me, touch me, touch me…”.
I am its child and I pray a grateful
prayer to this dream that creates me,
this endless thought that fills itself
and pours outward in unseen color;
a dream softly speaking to itself.
I am of this dream
and I am and I am not.
This dream bends thinly about itself,
a dream within a dream
that ebbs quietly
and disappears.
Now I sleep quietly without time
with only the eternal echo,
“I am and I am not…”.
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