We wake up
retaining some dreams
thank God not all 

they swathed through 
the subconscious
and stuck on the upper lip
of life's stiffened face

and now what:
search for an envelope
big enough to contain the dream
but its very liquid form
undoes the glued folder
and while life as is goes on
the dream is spilled
into the sand between our toes 

the oil of dreams
absorbed by sand of time
insoluble one from the other

thats how it goes my friend
and oh!
oiled sand keeps moisture
and allows seeds already there

to germinate and grow

and every desert
can spring unheard of life 

we had better not fret
at dreams spilled
but watch for what
grows underneath