Should I call it merely a dream ?
Each night earth life suspended, and will,my consciousness or migrant self, leaving
the unconscious torso, still abed ,but still
sharing the same breath, lands me
at a transcendental wakefulness in sleep
as if life dreams of itself or one could say
the spirit returns to its original home
and no longer remembers where
it lives. As a replica, mirroring the sun-lit
world, or a world behind the curtain of sleep,
the entity can't be marked as a measure
of my holding even if I spend a dream -time
as if in my home-land and at my own place,
with my own countrymen, turned dream-folks,
only possibility to meet the dead ,but attention
freed from thoughts makes you a universal
perceiver. It's possible even reasonable to tell
myself that this alone is real at the moment, with
its whole damn business of living ,I call it still
a dream which is lost as I awake.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 45 times
Written on 2022-06-01 at 17:39
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