Dreaming

I went to a poetry reading tonight and that just made me realize how long it’s been since I wrote some poetry. Of course I started composing right then and there in my head but I had no paper so I tried to remember what I wanted to say. It didn’t work out too well, but that’s okay. The following is what I started with and tried to make into something.

what is dreaming but an illusion
in reality.
the mind’s tension is
torn apart, allowing for
transformation
into the unreal, the unknown, something
no one would
ever know. what does dreaming
ever lead to but more
dreaming. end to end,
cloud to
cloud into a magical land
calling for
you.

children dream. dream but
of what? rainbows
and ponies, dogs, cats, magic–
fairies!
innocent dreams no one knows.
what
do they dream? a place to
live or someone to love or
to love them. maybe a
home or a place to call
home.
dreams. dreams.
too many dreams.

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