Here I am again.
Waking, moving, thinking, and speaking,
Loving, seeking, hoping, and dreaming.
How did I get here?
I thought one escapes in evening
Yet, tonight I am still here,
But as always I am sleeping.
Turn off the light
Pause the music of time,
And worlds unfold beneath my eyes.
I feel them as if they were pressing upon my skin.
I taste them as if they coated my tongue.
I see them as if they are inches ahead of me.
I know them as real and not,
But real, and not?
Then morning.
Here I am again.
Waking, moving, thinking, and speaking,
Loving, seeking, hoping and breathing.
I was there.
But where?
Not really here, nor there.
But somewhere.
Where I am now?
Here.
Again.
And again.
What is real?