Do you ever pause and ask,
        Is this a dream?

When I first asked, I laughed.
Then again I asked, and laughed again.

I asked, laughed, and peered a little closer.
I asked, peered, and dropped a wry smile.
I asked, and stared closely.

I realized I don’t even know what it means to look closely.
I don’t even know what it means to look.

I move through “life” as if a dream.
So focused on such a small portion of reality.
A little encapsulated cloud.
A box. (Sometimes rigid, other times wiggly)

I asked, is this a dream?
I do not know.
But continuing to ask has changed something.
I feel it in my stomach.

I don t know what I will find if I keep asking.
I don’t now know what that feeling is.

Now whenever I ask
I fear I may get an answer.