POEM: WHAT DREAMS MAY COME

Sunday, November 20, 2022

Ultra-reality

 

Water flows… we build a float of dreams and sit upon the float,

and f l o a t      downstream.

Into a valley we arrive and post our flags and chant our creeds—

by an altar of peculiar perceptions.

We drown the fools and swim in pools,

so c o o l      upon our skin.

We see in the sky, with one eye – secrets hanging by threads.

Secrets live and secrets die.

We lie on our backs with our heads drowned.

And from a popular scene, a clown is wanting his blanket back.

Well, how about that! I cup my hands and drink of the holy water.

I’m a fish, in a dish of good times, in love with everybody.

How fine the sand does shine beneath my fingernails.

I’m a bubble that b u b b l e s and burps on the edge of a line,

in a moment of no time. I’m fine. Feeling so f i n e .

I dive into the divine and dance in dazzling palaces across alien lands.

Ride on crystal balls over worlds colliding.

Dive into a mirror dialogue where jewels talk with minds      adrift.

Melt into a retrospective. I’m dealt a pack of pasts;

a ghost from my memory shakes me out of my adolescent fumbling.

I love with a velvet glove. The kindest thoughts, I pick and choose:

Mould my tongue with honeydew.

 

Poetry © Linda Cull

 

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Linda Cull is an artist, poet, author, and blogger at Spirit my way® covering spirituality, inspired creativity, and transformative experiences. Read more…

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