Dreams carry me away (too late) each night,
Then hold me in my bed each shining morn.
Now, once, as I recall, I did not dream—
Or if I did, dreams faded ere I woke.
Oh, how I longed for visions and for dreams—
And then my prayer was granted, and I dreamed,
And when I could recall them, wrote them down,
In hope or fear of some significance.
But now such nightly dreams are commonplace,
And—even nightmares—hold me in my bed
Far longer than I there ought to remain.
God give me strength! to rise and stand each day,
And, rather than, blinking, remain abed
To seek a too-real, quickly fading dream,
Instead, to set myself upon the work
I see before me—more and more each day.
I wrote this a few months ago, after coming to a realization of the phenomenon the poem describes.
I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions (perhaps of a proper title for this poem?), or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you like it, if you don’t like it, if something “works”, if something “doesn’t work”, if it makes you think of something or someone, etc., please comment and say so!) If you like this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday; you can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (or if that list is too intimidating, I’m posting more manageable subsets each week, such as yesterday’s installment, so you can just start with those). I’d particularly like to know which poems you think are my best.
This poem is also mirrored on my wiki.