The Time I Dove (Into a Dream)

Sleep took my hand and pulled me underneath
To the world where colors swirl and salty sweet air breathes.
Here lay the dormant titans of lumbering consciousness
Likely to rear their heads and find their way inside.

Upon leaving the waking world behind, there’s a fuzz
A gap in space-time unfilled
Burdened by the desire to recall and experience
A state of existence so unlike our own.

In the World of Dreams, the profound meets the profane.
The subtle meets the shout of superficiality
And it all churns in this endlessly boiling pot
Steaming and frothing and suspiciously concocting.

To the journeys they lead me on, I question
Why have I arrived at this moment?
Where shall my wings fly when the snap of darkness ends?
Sunlight spilling on tired eyelids yields no ideas.

And yet, the mystery is in itself
A great truth.

All poems Compass