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Saturday, 20 September 2014

The dream weaver sleeps

Good morning dear friends and followers.
Today I present to you a poem I named The dream weaver sleeps. What is consciousness?
Have a great read. 

The dream weaver sleeps

A deep yet conscious sleep;

dreaming things wondrous

and things so very mundane.

She dreams of that from eons past.

Ages the dreamer remembers not;

not when or how long ago,

her endless journey had begun.

There were things that were,

and things that never were.

Events that should have been,

but instead never happened;

and yet they are.

Or were they all what was,

and is, and whatever may be?

Realities only being mirrored projections,

realities created of our own consciousness;

Consciousness of things that were,

and of things to be?

She only knew that she was just

the focal point of one consciousness.

She knew one other fact: she was not alone.

She could feel other consciousness all about.

She was ageless;

she had no physical body.

She was ancient;

she was elder of the stars.

And those who loved her

have all gone to dust.

But for as long as the dreamer dreams,

she dreams of new realities;

And the dream time goes on...

Or is the dream dreaming the dreamer

like a weaver at her loom?

Her eyes opened and beheld a great sea

without a wave, as calm as glass.

In its waters she saw herself

for the first time in ages. 

And then the mist cleared,

and she found herself in a forest,

not like any she had seen before.

Castles and dwellings carved into its trees,

the life therein shone all about,

like the golden light of the post-noon sun.

Those living there were dancing, singing,

and going about their daily chores.

She felt the wind on her cheek,

Her hair fluttered and tickled her nose.

She sneezed, and so loudly,

that the sound warned all around,

“Something is here, where it does not belong!”

She knew not what to do, 

and for the first time she feared!

She had never thought of size before.

She was conscious of but a flowing motion,

like being a leaf, adrift at night,

on a great see of darkness.

But now knowing her size

and that of her world,

She felt more alone here

than she did in the void.

Something touched her shoulder;

She nearly fainted dead away!

This being stooped down,

breaking her fall,

catching her in his arms!

He speaks to her gentle words to soothe:

“Welcome home, Princess of the Stars.”
Composed by Cindy
Thank you very much dear friends or dropping by to read my poem. If you have any questions or just wish to share your thoughts, you are most welcomed to do so. 

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Lady ڰۣ

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