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…”.