The Forgotten Dream

The Forgotten Dream

In the early morning

     a whisper comes to me

A love so pure and tender

     beckoning to me

           come hither

               say the voices

                   crying out in dreams.

Abandon inhibitions

     come to the angels’ den

Where desire mixed with feeling

     and the golden light of love

          is sprinkled

              as a perfume

                    throughout the holy air.

Where is this poignant perfume

     that permeates the air?

        Breathe deeply

           the forgotten dream

                 it is everywhere.



Can one always dream?

One can always sleep

     But can one always dream?

When minutes slip away at last

     as cloth closes seam

And makes a garment

     The design is cast

And no altering of the piece

     Can change the fact

The piece has been made

     the dream has been cast

The solidifying then

     and then

          and then

                reality sets in.