Dreams

 

Who send these images that enter my sleep held brain?

Who paints these images vivid that I cant remember all of?

What is the meaning of these warped images that I when asleep can see plain

But on waking am blinded and can remember little of?

Strange apparitions of times past are suddenly recalled

So real its almost as if I can touch

Is the waking world with its regularity sprawled

To confuse, or maybe clarify as much?

 

The objects that control our thoughts during waking hours

Perhaps explained if we see the sleep seen signs

The answers we see if we have the interpretive powers

To be able, among this nonsense, to read the lines.

For answers we find not by regular ways

So when our brains orthodoxy is relaxed when we rest

The answers in coded for, the dance, and the image in our mind stays

In frames frozen: can we comprehend the test?

 

Maybe its in the simple cow who chews her grass

And stores it raw, but is prepared to regurgitate it as cud

So are the sights that into the stomach of our brains do pass

So that when at rest recall the images we would.

Fir greater understanding of our complex life

Maybe as a tool God gave us our dreams

Who can say that this is not so,

That this is not one of Gods Master Schemes?