Streams of consciousness

You come to me
In Deepest slumber
Teaching
Reaching
Lessons of student and sky
To fly yet grounded
Document lost
Who I am
Nowhere to be found
On the higher plane
Conscious running free
Like clearest mountain stream
Slivers of silver reflected
Through the rushing movement
Emotion like slippery stone
Creating waves
From underneath
Below the surface there lies
A higher horizon of night to day
And caught in the middle
Between light and dark
The stream slips past silently
And in the moment of perfect solitude
The dawn of realization
That this is all
There needs to be
The here
The now
The who I truly am
A part of whole
Yet nothing at all
A speck
A grain
Of sand in time
Streaming form
Of memory.