The Poet Dreamer

 The Poet Dreamer

Our lives are nights bereft of cogent dreams,

Sleep of light thought of lines of poems

Forgotten upon rising.

We are poets searching for truth in all dimensions

Much less our own lives,

Our greatest dream and illusion.

 

The mind plays tricks as symbols contest each other

In active play as we slumber away our hours.

Our day dreams are adventures with abstract layers

Of indecipherable, chaotic images and

Archetypes creating a play of poems.

Elusive are the truths hidden on the stages of dreams within dreams.

 

In which dream are we?

We are dreamers fighting our minds

To make sense of signs and symbols.

Each day we dream our stories of

Mystery, terror, rhapsody, and salvation,

As we seek order in identity, our place in creation.

 

Our days are collages of metaphors and entanglements,

Battles with shadows, and fictional accounts of

Victory and defeat; glory and grief.

Truth is elusive and well hidden in then

Confusion of interpretations of our delusions

Of self and others.

 

Life is a play of art unfolding in a labyrinth of

Paths interlinking the past, present, and future;

This dream of life is not linear;

It is a chaotic muddle of symbols and

Lines of thought with no intersection for truths to gather

For directions on this journey.

 

Life too is a kaleidoscope of truths

Brought into focus in vivid moments of contemplation

In which we awaken to capture flashes of

Brilliant insights as lucid dreamers.

That is the irony;

That is the poetry.

 

© September 14, 2017 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Original Digital Art: “The Poet Dreamer” ©Martha Harris  See Martha’s Artistic Flarings@artisticflarings.blog