Different Dreams

You are so far away
over there somewhere,
someplace I’ve never seen.

“The forest is alive here”,
you say to me from so far away.

“I can see the photos,
yet I can’t be there with you.”

“Come, be with me, here.”

That is your dream, not mine;
My dream is here in this land.

You love your dream.
I love my dream;
Surely, there’s a way
to merge the two.

I didn’t hear
from you yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon,
I dropped our
favourite fruit bowl.

I watched it smash into
so many pieces.

I found out today you died
in the forest
yesterday afternoon my time;
a heart attack.

Now I’m travelling to you.
It took your death to bring
our dreams together,
if only for a short time.

Dreams

Once, we slept little
and
moved around often,

chasing ambitions
and
seizing the long days.

Now, we sleep little
and
haunt the nights

looking for signs of life
and
who we used to be.

At night we write
and
overthink the future;

in the day we sleep
and
peel back the layers.

One day I slept too long
and
peeled back your dreams –

the colour had
drained
from the images.

Where have our dreams gone?

Night turns to day,
Day turns to night.
Night and Day become
meaningless states of being.

Insomnia takes hold,
a cursed Monday child;
the moon loves them so.

Writing in the cold and quiet
night where dreams once lived.
Where have our dreams gone?
Dreams have taken over the Day.

Deconstructed horrors, terrible acts,
death and torture, our daily drugs.

Gorging on nightmares through the day,
wishing for dreams to stay in the night-
Far away.