When dreams die
At the end of night
And flow to a river
Through a conduit of sleep
They must all meet
In an ectoplasm-sea
Of other dreams
And converse of longings
They danced through and colours
They left behind.
Some dreams must carry
Happy memories and travel
Onward to that place called
Tomorrow
To greet with a smile.
Some horrors
Must keep dreams awake
So that they leave chills
And shocking x-rays
To warn… not to turn left.
Some travel back
To remind – to re-live
The ecstasy of happy accidents
And the esoteric memory
Of déjà vu.
Some dreams die
Premature
And leave a nightscape
Of Chernobyl –
A barren night without hope
Or fear or memory
Called REM sleep.
Some seduce – tease and leave
Behind fragrances and colours
The prize fools and wretches who wake
From such dreams
sometimes
Turn into poets.
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