The Forgotten Dream
In the early morning
a whisper comes to me
A love so pure and tender
beckoning to me
come hither
say the voices
crying out in dreams.
Abandon inhibitions
come to the angels’ den
Where desire mixed with feeling
and the golden light of love
is sprinkled
as a perfume
throughout the holy air.
Where is this poignant perfume
that permeates the air?
Breathe deeply
the forgotten dream
it is everywhere.
s.k.lindeman
~~~~~~~~~
Can one always dream?
One can always sleep
But can one always dream?
When minutes slip away at last
as cloth closes seam
And makes a garment
The design is cast
And no altering of the piece
Can change the fact
The piece has been made
the dream has been cast
The solidifying then
and then
and then
reality sets in.
s.k.lindeman