Pantoum, Version Two

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Wide Awake

 

From the honest glare of daytime, steeped in sun,

we hide our heads in dreaming—thoughtless dreams.

Our worry-knots in mind and back are, here, undone;

for in dreaming, nothing’s ever what it seems.

 

We hide our heads in dreaming thoughtless dreams,

Hoping dreams remain when sleeping’s done.

But in dreaming, nothing’s ever as it seems—

fairy castles turn to vapor in the sun.

 

Hoping dreams remain when sleeping’s done,

we dream only of what we want to see.

Fairy castles turn to vapor in the sun;

Formless shadows of where we want to be.

 

We dream only of what we want to see

in our waking. We are, inwardly, still

formless shadows of what we want to be.

We’re lost in dreams, and nothing else, until

 

in our waking, we are inwardly still.

The time has come to rise up with the sun.

We’re lost in dreams, and nothing else, until

we wake to life, our journey half begun.

 

The time has come to rise up with the sun;

rub the scales of evening from our eyes.

We wake to life, our journey half begun.

There’s more dreaming in our waking than we realize.

 

Rub the scales of evening from our eyes.

We wake to life, our journey half begun.

There is dreaming in our waking—this we realize

in the honest glare of daytime, steeped in sun.

 

 

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4 responses »

  1. The Dadster Ripostes:

    Not too shabby, my Little Scion!

    You have a talent to see the unseen in the seen, to express the unreal in reality.

    This is a gift–for faith requires that we see what other do not see, accept what others do not accept, and believe what others do not believe!

    You make me very proud, in a very humble way, that God let me be your Dadster.

    Deo Soli Gloria!

    Love,

    The Dadster

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