So dreams come each night differently –
Last night there was a foreign tramp eating our swans
We fought – I couldn’t find my voice
In dreams I often don’t
One night I may be lost in an enormous house
Or fleeing an ominous villain
At night these thoughts invade my head
Escape my bed
Fill up the dead of sleep
Sometime ago I dreamt of flying
Skimming treetops down steep slopes
A quick paced spring and over again
A divine dream of falling down
This is the trick of these night flicks
Filling my brain with illusion
Each day I awake
Into a lovely right life
And take a tick to bring peace to confusion
But even these dreams
As glorious as stars
Never leave me wishing
They were how things are
Even though in my dreams I am healthy and wealthy
I’m richest with my Malika
Yeah, Carlos Castenada(?) told us you could control your actions in dreams if we can focus on our hands in front of us… Have trouble these days focusing on them in the real world tho!?
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I remember you telling that if you can hold on in a dream to try and focus on your hands. I can’t remember the exact reason why though? Great poem as always mate, this one in particular strikes a chord with me.
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