My Dreams
My dreams are like a river
that flows pass my bed at night.
They float out of the shadows
after the dark defeats the light.
They slip out of a mystic world
In silent repose I sleep,
stirred by my gentle breathing
and a rest that relaxes me.
I drift down to a dreamy state
where time gathers then flees so fast,
only to fade into the foolish
amid fantasies that never last.
My mind creates a private show
In twilight or an abyss, so deep
then I plunge into its mysteries
that confounds me while I sleep.
My dreams are a wonder
so real in that space of time.
Figures appearing as actors
with faces I recognize.
My dreams give me a roll to play
and on the silent stage I sweep,
seeking answers for my confusion
for reality hides from me.
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