Dreams take me places
this lifetime has never seen.
I’m not constrained
by time or space —
travels take me anywhere
within this magic place.
I may decide to fill my arms
with fragrant wild blooms,
gather precious stones,
perhaps, a fallen feather,
found along the path,
lost by a bluebird
(overhead, has passed).
These simple tokens,
Gentle signs of kindness
(natures bounty),
I bring them home,
marvel at approaching dawn,
another new beginning,
reason to carry on.
I’m seldom able to dream well enough due to medication ~ but there’s such pleasure in dreaming !
LikeLike
There is a beautiful book here in the UK for children which encourages them to access their imagination at bedtime by relaxing and taking a walk along a path, visualising various objects along the way. This poem reminded me of that, and would not be out of place in such a book. It is beautiful and dreams do allow us such freedom. :-)
LikeLike
Hi Jade,
Your comment reminds me of my mother reading bedtime stories to me. She’d read Beatrix Potter, J.M. Barrie, Lewis Carroll, James Otis Kaler who wrote “Toby Tyler; or, Ten Weeks with a Circus” or Thornton Burgess who wrote “The Adventures of Peter Cottontail”. Each night I would fall asleep following a path through the briar patch, down a rabbit hole or along a lake behind Paddy the Beaver. There is certainly a wonderful world of dreams.
Cheers,
Dennis
LikeLike
Dennis Cardiff: Poems and Prose 
Leave a comment