In dreams my age is not defined
All the trappings of aging,
Left behind.
My soul bared sometimes
Harshly or
Gentle
Reveries of inner life
Often confusingly
Sentimental.
Old faces appear
Unresolved
Problems no longer here
Sometimes solved
Flashes passing in the
Night
As fantasies inner workings
Spread their wings and take flight.
Dreams not hobbled by the state of biology,
Nor controlled by the torments of
Hormonal psychology.
In those moments
We are freed
And whoever we are
Or wish,
We can be.
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2 comments:
SO LOVELY AND SO TRUE. THE WAY WE CHANGE AS YOU GET OLDER AND WISER AND SOMETIMES MORE OR LESS ECCENTRIC. EVEN DREAMS CHANGE AND
MINE, WITH ALL THE TRAUMA, ARE MORE NIGHTMARES THAN OTHER THING BUT THAT'S OKAY.
WISH YOU KEEP ON WRITING MY DEAR, AND TO SALUTE THE DAY AND THE SUN.
I'M ALSO A WOODSTOCK GIRL EVEN NOT BEING THERE, AND I DARE TO SAY THAT WE SHARE THE SAME FAVORITE MUSIC AND BANDS.
LOVE YOU MY SISTER ������
thank you so very much my beautiful sister across the sea, for your beautiful words and heart. it is an honor to know you.
love, peace and parrots
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