We listen to these wishes where evidence of our subconscious come to life
Where our subconscious mind lies awake to connect us to our sentient
Where we dream about finding love as much as we lose ourselves to love
Where we wish to listen to our oneirology and change direction while trusting the omens and our inner guidance
Where we yearn to hold these dreams inside of us and desire for secrets we dare not share, but have courage to put them on paper with faith that one day they will come true
Where we listen to our dreams while dosing off to our precognitive senses
Where we wish for the day we lie awake with our conscious and mind at peace
Where we vow o dream and dream to remember that our path is without judgement and threat
Where we wish to break from a history of fear and curse of looking back instead of looking forward and listen to our dreams while we do
Poet
Masego Nkuna
Have you ever wondered
What it’s like to be
A dreamer?
The heart-shaped candies
Doused in rainbow and ecstasy
They take me on a special journey
And I wake up, gasping
In the lush green fields
of Opium and Poppy.
Where I met Oneiro
His gentle smile and marble eyes
that shone beneath the golden rays
Filled me with warmth and glow
And love wasn’t just a silhouette
Not anymore
I sought refuge in his smile
and played hide and seek in the fields
I crossed the same bridge
And no one walked with me
Oneiro clouded my soul and mind
As everything faded into a haze
I stared at the last candy
‘Dream’ etched on it in golden lace
I took a breath and let it consume me
And when I woke up
I was finally free
He was gone, and so was the golden drape
That clung to me before
Now adorned itself pitch black
I heard a voice, confused and dazed
Her golden dress illuminating the lush fields
Which once belonged to Oneiro and me
She asked my name, I couldn’t help but smile
Before I realized what was happening
“Oneiro,” was what I calmly replied.
Life blooms from a flower
Like a book flipping open
Spilling sunflowers and roses
On memories in deep oceans.
Fires rage and blood red burns
Endless fields and inchoate urns
Unformed babes and solid tears
Time runs deep with timeless gears.
Death sprouts from a seed
Like a fountain sputtering
Spraying ink and deep grey clouds
On love behind the pendulum.
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