Too Much to Dream
I had too much to dream tonight.
It woke me with a start.
I dreamed I could lead a richer life
And somehow make it art.
All the possibilities,
Future selves galore.
Bursting in their fullness,
Alive in technicolor.
Like roses abloom in springtime,
So many resplendent hues.
Petals alight and turned towards sun,
Not at all subdued.
Dreams float free of time
And other earthly constraints.
Scarves of the sheerest silk,
Each seen through the other, though faint.
None detracts from their kindred,
As they gently frolick in breeze.
Instead, they dance together
In gorgeous harmony.
Is it too much to dream by day?
And what’s too much, I ask?
Is it too bold for our weaken’d sight?
Could fresh eyes be up to the task?
It used to be a daydream’d strike,
And I would strike it down.
But the night has different plans,
Dreamy wonder all around.
Because in sleep my mind can choose
Not to feel fear, or let it in.
And to quiet that well-meaning saboteur,
Is where real dreams can begin.
I passed a woman once on trails,
Hiking out amidst green fields.
As she passed, we shared a smile,
Was it dream or was it real?
She, there working on a song,
Singing lyrics aloud to rhyme.
I, catching words like butterflies,
Creating a poem in time.
Our eyes met, like artists’ do,
A knowing look between us.
Steeping in magic in this way,
Makes the beauty all the more splend’rous.
Van Gogh, it’s said, sought nature’s truth,
The importance of witness as-is.
In nature we also find our truth,
And something akin to bliss.
For me, it is a generative bliss,
A walking metaphor,
Not knowing where the trail will lead,
And the deepest yearning to explore.
To wander, and hold it lightly,
I think that is the task.
Where exactly you’re going, and when,
Are not the questions to ask.
It is enough to be in nature as one,
Woodland fairies called us all to this place.
Smiles of sacred community,
Realizing there’s no need to race.
Stop the ceaseless striving,
Abandon singular ideas of winning.
I had too much to dream tonight…
And I think it’s just the beginning…
