The Dreaming

At night,
on my back
on the grass...
I see the stars.

Bright pulsation of the cosmos.

Each one a little white shining dream.
Each a reminder I now am asleep...
and drifting peacefully...until

Day comes.

Stars Gone.
I am man.
Erect.
Biped.
Reality
reluctantly setting in.

I
now
am
awake.

Busy,
not noticing the invisible sleepy dream-stars,

I forget they are still
there, masked by the bright open light of day...
still
there
behind my own veil of distractions...

The dream-star is still
there...
The dreaming is still
here...
no matter what I do.

As the stars are,
I am never
awake.

What freedom this
waking dream...

To tango with you in the dark and light
as a fish and bear on the Milky Way. Grab
my suitcase! Let's slide down the bumpy
strand of Mozarts toupé hair. Take those
billion elephant sandwiches from inside and give
them to the penguin...

What freedom
we remember!