Happy weekend everyone.
The poem below is one that I wrote a few years ago. I haven’t had time to write much these past couple days, so I’m going to the bull pen for this one.
I have pretty weird dreams, more so these past few years. Are they associated with my vision loss? Who knows. All I know is that I see faces more vividly now, and some of these faces are of people that I haven’t seen for twenty years or so. Some even older.
One funny thing about my dreams is that I don’t dream of people I have met since I became blind. Why is that? I know I haven’t seen their faces, but I have built a mental face of just about everyone I have met since 2010. Perhaps it’s because I picture them as a mental image only? Perhaps my mind hasn’t built a database that it can pull information from during dreams?
Perhaps I might never know, and still, I dream.
I hope you all have had a great first half of your weekend. May the spring blossoms fill your days with colorful joy.
Or Am I
I lie awake in morning hours
Stepping out from cluttered dreams
Dusting out the cobwebbed drawers
Waking up, or so it seems
It’s hard sometimes to separate
My reality from my sleep
The perceptions of my waking hours
And my wandering slumber’s deep
Countless skits of searching steps
Closely looking for a clue
Wrestled down by an unseen foe
With goals to carry through
City scapes and country roads
Take me far away
Amidst crowds of familiar face
Not caring what I say
Memories from the twisted night
Blend in with simple ease
Blazing trails for setting suns
Cast out for open seas
Endless tasks that seem at hand
Surround the piercing day
Breathless ending to a hurried start
Transforming lumps of clay
Not knowing if it’s night or day
I stumble ‘cross the stage
Guiding hands and friendly tone
Help me find the page
Pull the shades and shut the light
The spinning day is through
Thoughts and visions lay me down
As dreams come into view
Casts of characters wait in line
The tasks are all at stake
Have I somehow fallen off to sleep,
Or am I wide awake?