Wee rowan lad
drums me into night
a fabled rhythm
conjuring mystical
oneiric encounters
There is freedom
in dreaming
slipping ego’s hold
soul taking flight
There is sorrow too
for when the drummer’s
song is done
morning must come.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Too bad we can’t pick and choose when we can live in the dream world.
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Always enlightening though!
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Yes!
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I like this poem very much. There are some dreams we just don’t want to wake from.
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Yes. I once dreamt I was on a beach with Robin Williams. The conversation was so rich, and I’d just ask him if he was the Fisher King, when I woke up. So disappointing
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Oh, what a wonderful dream that must have been!
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Still remember it!
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🙂
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Love this!
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Thanks
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Wow! You pack so much into this short poem.
Freedom and Sorrow….love this juxtaposition.
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Thanks Betty!
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Such wonderful detail here, V.J. A great auditory ‘image’.
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Thanks LuAnne
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