some dreams are heavy
with experience
and presence
like summer fog
with tendrils drifting into areas
which cannot be seen
or reached
places in your memory
that are you but not you
places you can only recapture
by lying unconscious
and helpless
so that your mind
is released
sifts through time
and lands
in other worlds
into crackling realities
into god like ant like struggles
critical necessities
and always shifting
sometimes emerging
to wondrous lightness
incandescent awareness
and flying journeys
magical dreams
.
.
.
Thomaston Maine
December 27 6 a.m.
edited December 28 9:45 p.m.
.
.
© 2016 William C, Eberle
