Your dreams were wrapped around you like

Invisible dinosaurs.

They had laid eggs in your heart,

but they were frozen there,

in the unkind winter of your

forgetfulness.

You stumbled one day upon an old idea –

“To Hope!”

but kicked it aside like newspaper

and it lay there, obedient,

until you slept.

When you slept, the dreams unwound themselves

And their night soldiers came out –

Ragged bits of old people from old centuries –

They marched around the room,

commanding furniture to move.

And it did.

Then, you woke to the sound and cried out,

“Stop!! I cannot have my dreams moving furniture!

They must stay put in their compartments,

in their beds, like me

until it is time to do their work.”

But the dreams would not obey.

They marched in circles and ordered wine

from the shadows,

where waiters from the heavens were

waiting for your command.

They had a party and danced

while you went back to sleep.

Silently you woke the next day,

and they had all faded into gray shapes,

tired from dancing and disgruntled at not being

able to convince you

of their importance.

While you went off to work that day,

they sat on the floor and slowly

became invisible.

But they were still alive…

And years later, in your deepest sleeps,

you still let them dance –

but only until dawn.

Copyright Lane Eddington. August 4, 2003. All Rights Reserved.

Photo by Grant Gannon.

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