When a Poet Dreams
By J Ann Crowder
We close our eyes, effortlessly
Anticipating night’s bittersweetness
Darkness may shroud us like an apple's skinned cloak but stars, moon and galaxy are the sugared nectar within
We desire to taste a joyful solitude in our dreams as the images of our minds awaken, turning our visions alive
Upon our paradisical thoughts is kindled a flame, dancing on the barren spaces of universe above
This is how a poet dreams
Though our eyes linger in a darkened sleep they flutter like butterflies gleaning sea holly
Then, a humming in our ears emerges from the deep, sultry and savory oceans inside
The vibrating hum lulls like the sound of little bees pollinating sonoran hills dipped in buttercups and clover
As we drift nearer the birth of a ginger sunrise we clasp a magical wand, longing to fill empty scrolls with the spell of gentle prose
This is how a poet dreams
Some may forget their dreams but a poet remembers
A poet remembers fireflies underneath black blankets; they sketch them on white canvasses
Thus, we joy in our awakening fairytales, tossing beautifully drawn silhouettes into dream catchers
Dream catchers become our gauntlets and we drink them with the morning sun
Read this how you will, I want you to create your own interpretation. Written March 18, 2016.
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