NOTHING TO BE

I am now awake,  I can feel,  I do not think that it  is  real,
I know  it is a dream, I do not smile. I feel a sense of wrong
but a longing to make real,  this is not over done, not very
deep, but still I long,  I am intrigued.  I wish,  I think,  I try
to recreate, but still a smile I cannot make. My mind makes
it real or maybe it can. I think , oh what a fool this much we
did not have, so why to life it comes when I have no hold, oh
I wish to be told. But now I am awake, I sigh, a mistake I’ve
made, this visit in my mind I struggle to remake, desperate
to taste the sweetness of  actions in an unconscious state.
I pause, I think,  I still do not  smile,  why this subject is all
I wonder, why?

I have not thought of this for many months now,  but still
when most unexpected it creeps into my lull,  for I had gone
past this  with certainty I felt,  so why this sudden dreaming
nay I could not tell. I remember the moves, the words, the
looks, the time spent together, fleeting but sweet,  but now  I
wonder is it mine to keep. The setting was strange, or perhaps
not ,it was a  theater, a place of art, a domain very natural for
someone in  the performing arts. I think of the lingering hold,
the words soft but few, the pulsating beat of the heart of one
asleep,  the questions unanswered, the promises so very  deep 
together all seem  now so  meaningless  and cheap.

I decide to stay the time out, to perhaps hold this dear,  to go
back to revisit and to embellish it clear,  I try  to  understand
the meaning, I try to coin it as dear. The time is quickly going
but it is not yet clear, perhaps I should  sit here and look inside
my eyes ,and try to unravel the maze that played in my sleeping
mind. Trying  to hold my pictures oh so tender and very  near
I walk one step at a time, moving every now and again  with
care, down the walkway of a dream elusive and unclear .

But ah, just as the time goes and the light  creeps its way in, those
moments become distant, blurred and unclear. The sweetness is
hit by daylight it melts drip after drip, halting my recalling, naming
it an impossible thing, hence holding the pictures has lost  its sting.
For a while I was confused, you came in the night,  enchanting
and mind boggling, nectar so sweet, but now it is clear, as a crack
of bright melts it all away and  morning  light sends me back to the real,
I say, an unusual dream, powerful, warm, complete,  yet nothing to  be,
nothing  that I would  keep.