some dreams are heavy with experience and presence like summer fog
with tendrils drifting into areas which cannot be seen or reached
places in your memory that are you but not you
places you can only recapture by lying unconscious and helpless so that your mind is released
sifts through time and lands
in other worlds
into crackling realities into god like ant like struggles critical necessities and always shifting
sometimes emerging to wondrous lightness incandescent awareness and flying journeys
magical dreams . . . Thomaston Maine December 27 6 a.m. edited December 28 9:45 p.m. . . © 2016 William C, Eberle