Primordially Free

These wondrous dreams

cry out scenes

that weave wonderful stories

I know consciously

could play across the pages

in terrific memories

of the night's passing.

 

Yet, awake I forget to remember them

in all their glory

failing to pass upon the tales

that entertain me so

in my night's rampage

within the Sublime light

that dreamer's delight

is beyond my reach

once I awake

and another

story goes untold

fails to unfold

from my writer's hand

and I am forced

to take the course

of writing consciously awake each morn.

 

When the nights dreams

are much more fanciful

full of depth yet I can not pass them on

as the morning dew pales in the sunlight

so do my memories of the night

and the perfect schemes of the poet's mind

forever at work, even in sleep

so I fail to give to thee

the memories unfolded in the dark.

 

I only wish I could train my mind

to unwind

the words, the imagery,

the music

that comes to me

in sleep

each eve

yet upon the fluttering of my eyes

they take flight

into the night

forgotten in the morn.

 

A mystery to me

although in sleep

I felt them deeply moving

I knew even though I dreamt

they wove tales important to share

yet they fly away without a care

when I awake

and I am forced to traverse

with the notebook

words weak

not nearly as strong

as those born of the dreaming mind

stories conceived subliminally

linked to that which is

Primordially Free.

 

 

Reviews

[A.J. Smith]

Oh, wow, Siddartha, I love this. How beautifully you capture my own frustrations at losing the memory of such fantastic dreams. I have wonderful dream journeys, the snippets of which make no sense when I awake, yet it all made such perfect sense in my dream. And I can never go back...have felt sad many times when stirred from sleep, unable to get back to the incredible tale that was unfolding in my mind. Very nice write.

[dEj]

dead solid perfect!

My muse, my dreams,
My goal each waking moment
To bring life to those dreams
manifesting them
eternally
building my days
scratching the soil
planting the way
for the night
and the next dream
my
fantasized reality.

Again.... Wonderfilled

namaste

[L]

Dreams and memories, what else do we have to work with.
I enjoyed this work, thanks

[Static C]

I am most certainly going to add this to my favorites library. I have experienced this myself so many times. I have been playing with some ideas about memories myself because of this though I've been working with different Imagery. Now I am not sure if I will be able to finish because I will forever be making comparisons. Perhaps I will skip to something else for a time and then return. Sometimes I awaken and feel as though I have not even slept for the Imagery and words that play with me in my mind. I look forward to reading more of your work. I never read more than one piece from any given writer each day. I do that because I want to give useful feedback without inevitable comparisons between works. I think my favorite line here is "In my nights rampage within the sublime light". I like this because it touches on the way my mind seems to set itself free even from myself sometimes.

[Emily B]

It is such a shame when our words and dreams flee before we are able to capture them. It wouldn't be quite so tragic if we never remembered there were words at all. Beautiful, familiar words. I think we can all sympathize with this piece.