Relegated as a minor poet
Longfellow's Psalm
returns as memory
from a long-ago classroom..
Is it time to look again..?
Two verses may suffice..

In our real experience
dreams and waking
share one reality:
each are manifestations
of the finite mind
which rises within our Self
(and in astonishment
for the material-minded)
are made of our Self..

Indeed..this experience
awakens us from slumber
and at last we discover
things are not what they seem..
Our Self
not the confined self
(which our culture assigns)
is our true identity..
The Self..well..of course
is not made of dust
is not destined
for the grave...!


Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
   Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
   And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
   And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
   Was not spoken of the soul.*

For the complete poem, A Psalm of Live,
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, use
this link:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44644/a-psalm-of-life