Cafe' of dreams,
are you my meditation hall,
where instead of in rows
on pillows, watching thoughts,
we sit at little tables,
committing thoughts to paper,
thoughts and feelings, too,
returning stronger to the world,
carrying a gift,
or are you more
like an opium den in which,
imbibing potions,
each one dreams
a vapid dream,
creating worlds that don't exist
and battling shadows
that never walked the earth?
Max Reif
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cafe-of-dreams/
