Dreams’ Intimate Vagaries

How arrives such moments,
Those glimpses,
Realms consciousness first realizes
Amidst the elusive dreams of a child,
That place of castles and warriors,
Princesses and silken hair,
Always subjected to a blank slate
On awakening.

Later

Dreams seem accessible.
We rush to write them down,
Speak them on the couch,
Beg reflection to arouse
Imagination’s past
Into future’s truth,
That place
Where swollen heat
Moistens into Nature’s tears,
Encouraging the heart’s fantasies
To irrigate arid stagnation
From the mind.

Why do many,
Far too many,
Condemn wraith-like epiphanies
As wasted Time?

How desolate
Such avoidance…

This gracious invitation
Left to only grieve those
Ignoring such glimpses into the reticent,
Yet purposeful dreams,
Knowing not
Time’s only desire
Is to keep accessible
The most intimate past.

Sad

Too few learn
Dreams’ intimate vagaries

Can be realized,
While others learn well
 How to ignore them.