Under the Dreaming Tree

Under the Dreaming Tree I discover you,
As though you’d been waiting for a lifetime.
You reach your hand out, patiently waiting for me to realize,

The fragments of dreams that make up the memory of you.
So I sleep and sleep, as you take me under
To a place of distorted reality, that knows neither beginning nor end,
Forever stuck in the middle of a reverie.
You watch over me like the catcher of dreams,
Eager to replace my nightmares with delusions and hallucinations.
They come shrouded in the mist of a forgotten fantasy.
They come as figures in gold, sweet as the passion I find,
Buried in the daydreams of a distant time.

But you wait for me to come to you.
Drunk on the wine and high on the feeling,
Too content to notice the needle in my arm, the bags under my eyes.
But you wait for me to come to you because we’re still young.
Knowing young dreamers are filled with an innocence you can no longer find,
Their dreams pure as they filter through the web of the dream catcher.
I’ve spent nights running from the sun, and always seem to get away,
Until dawn breaks, reflected off the prism of my shattered mind.
(A dream of my own reflected off it’s broken shards.)
I rub the sand from my eyes to remind myself of who I am,
Thoughts clouded by visions of who I was once.
Finding familiarity in the reflection I see, I look up,
For inspiration in the morning light, as the moon begins to fade,
And the boy on the edge of the crescent throws his line down to me.
I wonder if he was tired of seeing how broken Earth had become.
How Her dreams have slowly died, becoming the broken stars we see
Seemingly eager to fall from their place in the sky.

Under the Dreaming Tree, I found you,
But I no longer am distracted by visions if my ill bent desires,
Of nightmares filled with demons of my own creation.
There is no longer innocence in me, and you seethe to know I am not pure.
But I know there is nothing wrong with what I’ve become,
Broken dreams can mend; find salvation in minds of those willing to believe.
Fantasies and nightmares blend to create a force so powerful,
It can sway the darkest of minds, and create the most beautiful tragedies.
My mind a blank slate, as the words dance on my tongue.
So slowly the terrors of the night fade, and I wake with the sunshine.
And I think back to the stars, fascinated by their beauty and grace,
As they fall to the Earth, with new found faith,
So eager to tell the stories of the sky and her stars.

Picture by Aaron Burden (Unsplash)

Leave a Reply

error: Protected content
%d bloggers like this: