a morning breaking
a dawn awakening
quite suddenly
a flower budding
a petal fluttering
quietly shuttering
some dreams are dreams it seems,
just a figment of beautiful scenes,
like shadows frolicking
across the distant lands,
a candle flickering
across the shifting sands,
aborted before their birth,
bearing nothing of worth
their light flooding
into an exposed negative,
their life falling
into all the holes of a sieve
held momentarily,
in the briefest remembering,
fading so silently,
still yet echoing, whispering
sensations forgotten,
nothing begotten,
muffled and smothered long, long ago,
maybe a memory with nothing to show
a ghost of gone, long-ago thoughts
when lovers still longingly sought
with joy each other’s embraces,
oh dreams, please show me your faces
Could a dead dream live in memory?
not like sand in an oyster, a pearl to be,
Oh where are the testimonies
of all those dreams of long ago?
so promising the images
of all those dreams and what they showed
March,2006
Ben Gieske
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-2-2/
