The dreamers are here again, they say
They see our eyes drawn open, they see us blinking in the sunlight,
Taking tentative steps towards each other, away from the walls and into the fields
Where off come our shoes, and we run, barefoot,
Into water splashed with sunlight, and through the sky the great golden orb arches,
Spinning summer into the north.

I know what they're thinking. They think we've stopped dreaming.
Because we open our eyes and laugh with them,
Because we're consciously reacting to this reality,
They think it's the only one that matters.

They think that somehow, being awake means we're not asleep.

You'd have to be one of us to understand how many worlds you can coexist in at once, without losing sight of ourselves.