Asleep at the wheel
couch cradles the life of the two
porch hounds inspire rest.
Yesterday now gone
yet the couch remains the same
days spent in comfort.
Asleep at the wheel
couch cradles the life of the two
porch hounds inspire rest.
Yesterday now gone
yet the couch remains the same
days spent in comfort.
I stood there on the edge of the mountain
wind pushing against my body and soul
my feet gripping the line where eternity begins
and earth ends, like sharp talons grasping
as I fell forward into the cushion of air
the invisible barrier holding me as I peered below
like an eagle ready to take flight
no hesitation, just awe at the image of forever
as I flew without leaving the ground.
The fingers of clouds held me still
as the sweet breath of the wind whispered into my soul
and there was no fear of death
no thoughts of what stood behind me
beyond the edge for I had become
a feathered machine turning my head
seeing the impossible in every degree
and I flew in the dream into tomorrow
with words hanging like butterflies
gently landing on my shoulder
knowing not to touch for fear of breaking
the fragile wings that moved back and forth
before taking flight
into the unknown.
The buoyant mind soaring on the current of thought
drifting down into the depths of sleep,
alive and the memory of the dream
never skipping a beat upon waking
refreshed from my flight into the universe.
I’ve changed up my blog a little bit as you can see, so please let me know if you like the new theme and layout, what works for you and what doesn’t. I think it suits me but time will tell, as we are constantly evolving creatures and sometimes changing it up a bit charges up the old soul. Peace and love and no, I’m not jumping off of mountains….just a cool dream I had last night where I fell into forever but was held up by the wind, I just love dreams like that. So exhilarating.
I fell asleep last night, and like most nights did it in the same way, with words running amok through my head like a rollercoaster on the downward first plunge. Eighty miles an hour the thoughts took each twist and turn, moving words in sequences and plucking many out like fleas off of an infested dog. Nope, no good, pull that one and replace. Yes, that one works good there. I did this for a few moments, rehearsing the lines over and over again so that I would remember them, so that they would be given actual life on a piece of internet page for the world to see and judge. I fell asleep with words of beauty on my tongue, nodding in harmony to the rhythmic flow of creation.
I had many dreams last night. I know this as I woke with each passing one with a smile because of the fact that I remembered them, so many varieties of thought dreams. This is so big for me for since I’ve moved, the dream thief has stolen each and every one upon waking. I don’t know why I am not still given the gift down South that I had up North, perhaps the warm weather soothes the nightmares away, leaving only good words in the morning to put to life. I like to think so.
And I awoke this morning as my fingers moved, fast and steady typing on an old typewriter of all things, forcing each key down as I rushed to get the words out before they slipped away around the corner. My joints ached and I realized as the dawn of awakening tends to show, I remembered what I was doing, why my fingers ached. I was dreaming of typing poetry and capturing each dream before it was lost.
Perhaps I should sleep with the keyboard on and actually get massive amounts of writing done, but then the mind wouldn’t rest and the fingers would fall off I would think. Besides, I like my sleep and why interrupt it with light. More comes from the darkness and with the light of waking, so much lost yet so much found.