Some dreams last until awakening;
Others bleed their way to waking life,
Cling with roots until the days of longer years
Give to empty space wild hours that will not pass.
Dreams ride upon a chilly wind as harbinger,
Bind memories of forgotten days
Buried within painful crevice of the heart.
Nightmares scream with ancient images,
Wake the dreamer caught in vivid dark;
Unlived passions arouse one wet and sweet—
Warm reality of the body’s hopeful treat.
Each knits the soul to higher powers
That slumber cannot escape or leave
Forgotten in the wistful turns of night.