28.4.16

NOT DREAMING

Grasping that magic remains 
the framework upon which 
our existence rests 
we must hold our breaths 
without the hollow reeds
to carry us hidden downriver 
stacking up into thatch-roofed houses 
we blow our dreams through
to set them afloat 
on the sea of eternity
which is to say 
the fire it takes to burn
those homes down 
would never have been set
without the water with which to douse them 
and from which all their kindling grew 
into the fallen monarchs of the forest 
we are so deeply within we cannot be seen 
even to ourselves 
when discovering each other 
in a place where darkness
becomes impossible 
while time unwinds 
from the stellar depths 
haunting us all visibly
each night while we exhale 
our pent up sleep
so we may reawaken 
the following morning
to a brand new day 
having secured that 
after all 
we are

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