I have this dream, where I am
walking in a field of flowers,
daisies, mostly, some yellow, others
white. All tall, and blindingly bright,
in the early morning sun, they feel
like thousands of frilly flashlights
aimed at my squinting face, demanding
a motive for my meandering among them.
I don't have one. I wandered there,
not following a trail, for my eyes
were barely open due to restlessness
the night before, in which my sleep
was stolen, by angst and fear and
insecurity, those relentless thieves
of the psyche, that hypothesize and
terrorize my suffering spirit, nightly!
Suddenly,
the vast and vivid meadow shrinks and
morphs into a narrow path. Flowers are
intact, but they're squeezed between
two barriers - a wall of stone and a
wire fence. At this point, the tense,
claustrophobic me is feeling miserably,
since the only accessibility to openness
from this flowery, congested patch is
a cliff top dive into thin air,
a drop into the valley directly
below, with nothing to latch on to,
nobody to catch my fall.
Then,
to my rescue, the REM patrol shows up!
It stops the dream that caused a scene,
restoring peace and creating calm,
so that, in the end, with decisions spared,
jittery nerves repaired, eyes relaxed and
still, I bid adieu to the courageous crew,
then dizzily drift into a dream-free shift
of heavy, uninterrupted sleep.
white. All tall, and blindingly bright,
in the early morning sun, they feel
like thousands of frilly flashlights
aimed at my squinting face, demanding
a motive for my meandering among them.
I don't have one. I wandered there,
not following a trail, for my eyes
were barely open due to restlessness
the night before, in which my sleep
was stolen, by angst and fear and
insecurity, those relentless thieves
of the psyche, that hypothesize and
terrorize my suffering spirit, nightly!
Suddenly,
the vast and vivid meadow shrinks and
morphs into a narrow path. Flowers are
intact, but they're squeezed between
two barriers - a wall of stone and a
wire fence. At this point, the tense,
claustrophobic me is feeling miserably,
since the only accessibility to openness
from this flowery, congested patch is
a cliff top dive into thin air,
a drop into the valley directly
below, with nothing to latch on to,
nobody to catch my fall.
Then,
to my rescue, the REM patrol shows up!
It stops the dream that caused a scene,
restoring peace and creating calm,
so that, in the end, with decisions spared,
jittery nerves repaired, eyes relaxed and
still, I bid adieu to the courageous crew,
then dizzily drift into a dream-free shift
of heavy, uninterrupted sleep.
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