Dreams Maturing

How arrives such moments?

Those glimpses,
Realms consciousness first realized
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 heart’s fantasies
To irrigate arid stagnation
From the mind.

Why do many,
Far too many,
Condemn wraithlike epiphanies
As wasted Time?

How sad,
Such avoidance.

This gracious invitation
Left to only grieve those
Ignoring such long ago
Childhood dreams,
Knowing not
Time’s only desire
Is to revisit
Its most intimate past.

Strange

Some never learn
How to realize dreams,
While others know well
 How to lose them.