lately, only the deceased
say they love me
in my dreams
they embrace me and advise me to persevere
though i’ve never see their faces
their voices are extremely familiar
foreign emotions of the dreamscape
live on into the waking landscape
i sense life’s purpose
though puzzled of its directive
traveling into its visionary status
adhering to its collective vibration
feeling like an alien being
living on a distant planet of my own making
i'm in a collective dream of the dead constantly reliving their presence
Sheila
s
Lovely quietude in this gentle rumination. It takes me back to your old poem, The Body Poetic, which, to me, answers a lot of the inner dialogue and debating here. Whatever compels or propels you, embrace it and move on; it is your life's work. There is no such thing as standing still. If we don't move forward, we regress. And even though you may feel alien and mystified just consider the sleepwalker: even he always moves forward, and not back! :))
And guess what... Shine On You Crazy Diamond is playing even as I write these words... but of course!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Kambridge Kate xx
Love to you and yours
and
sweet dreams to us all.
From
Kay
Peace and harmony,
Susan
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Ron
Georg
Take care,
Sherry
Newfie Hugs, Rose
fee
Much peace, light, and "love",
Amber "V"