Sunday, December 6, 2009

Another little bonus

Dreams Speak

Dreams speak on silent lips

eyes flash

lids narrow.

We are our breaths

our heartbeats in silence

even as thunder roars

in our bones.

Meditative we reach

to oversoul, so large

and there we speak

resonating like plucked strings

up and down the lives

of our crystal selves.

-- August 2009


  1. If this is about literal dreaming, it only reminds me how much I dislike the total loss of control I have over nightmares. I hate the idea that my own understanding of who I am is an illusion... It makes me feel very fragile, as if I consisted of crystal selves, as you said.

  2. Oh my goodness. Thanks for sharing, Greenglass. Wow.

  3. I love this poem -- such vivid imagery.