Lucid Dream

Lost in the mist, caught in the gateway

Between fantasy and reality,

Where that which is seen vanishes,

And that which is felt disintegrates,

An infinite universe, eternally expanding

Yet existing only within the void separating eye and captor,

Lucid dream, lucid thoughts,

A mind refusing to open into reality,

Imagination; the sanctuary within,

Delve beneath waking waters,

Surface amidst hopes, desires; the version of reality we yearn for:

A place in which one can shiver and never be cold,

Sweat, yet feel no heat,

Cry without shame or the need for explanation,

Speak in words that encompass all meaning,

And alter the earth without a whisper to the world,

A solitary planet orbiting the brightest flame of the heavens,

Isolated in this subconscious realm, beneath the veil of night,

If only reality was a stream of the surreal,

Trickling into every moment of life,

Or if dreams could materialize into the tangible,

Yet in the absence of non-reality, artful nuances dwindle,

As does life, and its fury of passion,

One must be without, to find oneself,

To experience what it is to possess that which we are without,

In this wakeful moment, I breathe,

Inward, the first breath of that which I have yet to experience.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote most of this in my head while I was lying there in bed after I had woken up but hadn't opened my eyes yet. Sort of a new topic for me too. Let me know what you think.

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Jere''s picture

Letting you know what I think: I know for sure that I would like to see several more just like this one.

Anna Dufour's picture

One of my favorite hobbies in the world is to dream. It's an escape to another "reality" from this sometimes infair exsistance. Another strong poem

DeAnna Shaddy's picture

If only....that's the only way I can describe what
I felt reading this piece. =O)

Michelle Duvall's picture

Wonderful style of writing. Different from your previous. I love writing about dreams, sometimes even day dreams. Funny how they can last only a few minutes but you could write a novel about them. I relate to this poem in many ways.

Marianne Chrisos's picture

ever seen vanilla sky? well, this is a picture right out of it. good work, though, great words.