Outside my window,
the leaves are in a frenzy~
twirling, shaking and flying about
the wind just sending them off
in a scattered dance...
so similar to the
thoughts
chaotic in my mind

Sleep comes around,
but the dreams do not.

Or do they?
And I've forgotten them yet again.

They are but fleeting wisps for me...
iridescent ribbons of subconsciousness
winding through me,
teasing,
then eluding me

When I try to touch them,
my fingers ripple through a smoky haze
So real to me, yet intangible

Sometimes I wonder
whether I could pour something
over these dreams,
Splash! And they crackle,
crystallizing them, finally captured
Smooth, sharp, tangible

and then I change my mind,
since it doesn't feel right...

Like caging something
to admire its beauty

Somehow, even the word dream
seems so ethereal to me,
they are but soft whispers
weaving through my slumbering self

My dreams,
they have a voice
so melodic, yet incomparable
so beautiful, yet unrecoverable

My dreams,
they come in color
so alive, yet muted
so alive, yet unreal

My head touches the pillow,
and I sink into slumber,
a myriad of thoughts finally settling down,
as undulating curls of dreams rise up around me

Come to think of it,
this creates for me such a
fascinating image...

Myself enveloped in darkness,
with wispy colorful ribbons
floating by all around me
as I dream on...
a quick reprieve from reality







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