018Nightly Home

posted by Daniel on April 23rd, 2008

“Once upon a time, I, Chuang-tzu, dreamt I was a butterfly, flittering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly…suddenly I awoke… Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.“ Chuang-tzu, Chinese philosopher.

In each late eve as I lay to slumber,
Drunk in the sweet, silent dreaming hour,
The soul of my thought grew wings and took flight,
To a place of bliss and fright.

In this landscape sculpted from memories
Whose inhabitants born of reminiscence,
My mind would compose exotic stories
With near life-like assemblance.

The reels of past years would criss-cross to form
A mosaic which mimicked reality’s own;
Vividly familiar yet out of norm,
Well-acquainted yet unknown.

Through the plane of dreams, my mind would wander,
In shapes and symbols of my inner desire,
A state of existence of thought’s design,
A place for a day’s resign.

Oft I wonder of my nightly ‘venture,
Why am I brought there over and over -
If it’s a place where I frequently roam,
Which reality then is my real home?

“I can never decide whether my dreams are the result of my thoughts, or my thoughts the result of my dreams.“ D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930), English novelist.

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