In Dreams
It is odd to separate dream and reality.
To say this is true and that is not.
As a child, I went through a spell of nightmares.
Witches, monsters, and mysterious disasters
haunted my nights.
I would wake to my screams.
My Dad suggested that these things were not real
and that if I could imagine the bad, I could imagine
how I would have to be to defeat them.
I could imagine things in daylight, why not in my dreams?
I became adept at this magic.
More powerful than witches,
stronger than monsters,
able to fly, run, and save people when the earth broke apart.
Ah, it was wonderful!
I don't remember my dreams much anymore.
But I wake with thoughts- good and bad.
Which are real?
I can perceive the monsters that might destroy me.
Are they ‘real’?
There are no ‘collectors’ come to destroy me.
Is guilt the monster? or shame?
What will I be to defeat the evil that comes for me?
When I wake strong, is that less real?
I wake knowing the problems, and they are no less real, but seen differently.
The bones of evils past can be seen in my imagination.
I stretch to the ceiling and breath the free air.
I have lost many in the adventures of life,
by the wayside
or to different paths.
Sometimes I am old and decrepit as I walk,
but I return as a youngster in time.
Weak, strong, imagined, or real
dream or solid
We see the world through filters.
The least we can do is keep them clean.
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