I Dream Again


I Dreamt . . .

The air was salty when we met,

As the clock struck just past noon.

And despite the brightness of the sand,

Our light came from the quarter moon.



Greetings Sir, we meet again

Such honor you do bestow.

I thought perhaps my last dream,

Should be a worthy single show.



Au contraire my precious knight,

I visit as often as I can.

And it seems you had a pressing thought,

Beyond the written words of man.



I remembered then my mind of worry,

Which had sought to find a cure,

The eternal question asked over time,

To which no soul could be sure.



You watched with clever eyes,

Waiting for my mouth to form the words.

Knowing perhaps as we all know,

Voices soar and falter like the birds.



And what of all my kindred souls,

What will become of each?

Each holds a a pen of thunderous thoughts,

An art you cannot teach.



Your gentle smile urged me on,

Knowing I had more words to land.

And sure enough, I blurted forth,

I will not believe them damned!



It is not my place to tell you now,

Of where your life's end will lead.

But no worries child I tell you this,

It is together you will all be freed.