Dream of a River

I don’t know
what I look like in my dreams.
The clear facade I wear
when I’m awake,
disrobes in the silent dark,
to release
an amorphous, formless me,
a vague, pixelated me,
who can run and fall and be afraid,
who can love and cry,
and viciously hate.
Perhaps, I must dream of a mirror
that will return my gaze,
or of a furrowed river
that will reveal my face.
But I cannot stay up
to steer my dreams,
the slumbering I
can’t hear my screams.
So an obscure figure
still consumes the light,
a vacant visage
still floats in the night.

I don’t know
what I look like in my dreams.
But those sightless eyes
have a fairer view,
those soundless sighs
sing far more true.

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54 thoughts on “Dream of a River

  1. An interesting write. Pretty bad when our dreams are better than our reality. Though I imagine that is true for many. But there is nothing real there. Only empty promises, you know.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lots to think about here! Never thought about what I look like in my dreams…now I will. Perhaps in one’s dreams one could make various changes — younger, fitter, taller, shorter, smaller ears, whatever. etc. I do like the idea of a ‘vacant visage’ floating…fits the dreamlike tone.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. WOW! How I love this – and what an original perspective…….I especially love the idea of dreaming a mirror that will reflect your gaze….. the “furrowed river”…..and the sightless eyes that have a fairer view and soundless sighs that sing more true. A really wonderful write!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “an amorphous, formless me,
    a vague, pixelated me,
    who can run and fall and be afraid,
    who can love and cry,
    and viciously hate.”

    a very credible persona of the dream state; i luv those lines for their ethereal quality

    have a good Sunday

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person

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