I had a dream I wrote a poem. Inspired and fluid.
Excited, I stopped to read it.
To relive what I’d done.
Realizing as I searched that it was gone.
Never here really.
Just penned in my sleep.
Vertigo. I remember.
Earnest. True words.
And connection. A shared meaning understood.
Bright blue electricity snaking.
Images flashing white. Ignition.
You knew what I meant. What I wanted to say.
A shroud lifted. Light piercing through a dark room.
Questions forgotten. Explanations excused.
Insight. An unmistakable link.
Ease spread. It rippled across your face.
Just a dream though.
Tumbling in the dark.
Words about something that moved me …
Something I had to make clear.
To create. To do justice.
To completely share.
Loss and disappointment at what was only a dream.
Just a lingering desire remains.
I want to dig it out of there.
Deep inside my brain.
One thought on “Dream Writing”
Oh so often I am inspired from within a dream. A verse begins. Just very fleeting, if not caught. In the moment.
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