James Moore Poet Narrative

Notes About The Poem

Surrealistic Pillows

(“And Dream of Sheep”, 2018, original encaustic)

I lay my head on surrealistic pillows
Mindscapes stretching out in all direction
What is up, what is down
What is in or out?
And in the dream sleep eludes me
Yet I wake refreshed from lifetimes elsewhere.

Women walk past, bound who knows where
Each a morsel savory or sweet, bitter or tart,
Complete in and of themselves
As only the female lifeform can be.
Men of every kind pass as well,
Not all determined, in the least, but all
Distinctly male, thus knowable
In every detail.
In this crowd I push upstream
Jostled by each in turn
And as we touch, for the briefest instant
Our lives meet, minds meld, and then
Off we go, particles adrift yet held
Within the net of magnetic poles.
Thus I sense the crowd 
attract and repel in my wake.

Eventually I am alone
The sun has set
And full moon risen
Above in a great arc of starry heavens
A thin wispy cloud band runs north and south
Encompassing, in that moment,
The whole of Earth
Illuminated in rainbow light
Which I know, without a doubt,
Projected from my heart
Bridges high and low, in and out.

And in that moment
Conceived as whole
My life turns back
To friends and home.
And yet, so many miles to go
Before I wake, before I wake.

(9/26/25)

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