Is this a dream that I see?
Visions of things that are not there?
But to me so very real it seems;
All I know is that I am lost somewhere.

Where does one draw the line
Of things that are and that are not?
I understand them not, but know one thing
Visions are but images of the things we sought.

A poem is but a set of words
Given to express a vision seen;
A picture is but colors splashed
To an image of what a dream has been.

A design is but an image thought
That never before did exist;
Science is but a struggle of
Ideas with whom we persist.

Religion is but beliefs and faiths;
Love is but a feeling sought;
Human spirit an image drawn;
But are they all dreams or are they not?

To dream is a right that we all enjoy;
It’s the quality that gets us to uniqueness close.
Like a fairy tale its story runs,
Know not ever where it finally goes.

You tell me that you are not
What to my eyes you so unmistakably seem.
Care I not for such obtuse truth;
Know just that you are a part of my day-night dream.