Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Eyes of the Dream

author's note:

“We experience a dream as real because it is real.”
                                 --  William Dement


Though the bridge broke into eye dust
with the first blink of morning...

I could still feel that dream:
the suspense in crossing,
alone, in the darkness.

I strained to maintain the memory
of how the fog obscured the rock walls
of how the cobblestones felt beneath my feet
because I hoped that enhanced reality
might heighten my waking life

--yes, my waking life
  could use some heightening--

but as I moved through my routine
I could not sustain the rich intensity--
I could not bring the adrenaline
of that uncertainty
into my mundane steps

for one divine moment:

while crossing a street this afternoon
on a whim, I deepened my listening
down just a bit more
and in that way, rediscovered
the silent eyes of the dream
within me:

I then felt that stoplight
swinging softly
in hard sunlight...
that bleached grey fence...
the weedy lot...

they became just as real---just as challenging
as that bridge--those wet stones--the fog
of my dream.

In that breath of awareness
another--purer--spirit seemed to take me:

a shadow spirit inside--
buried, forgotten

until it rises
once again
in a rare saturated moment
of wonder...of vision...

© 2013, Michael R. Patton
dreaming steps

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