If memory serves:
there was a dark pool in my dreams
that you were bathing in-
and the moon, or rather, its other self
stretched itself from the sky
into the deep recesses of your iris.
and I, half asleep on the shore
laid there completely still,
watching you wade back and forth
until your arms tired from paddling
and you rolled yourself over to float
upon the weightlessness of the water.
All my dreams are this way, meaning something
my exhausted mind can only explain as
incoherent noise; waves that break
far beneath the surface.
Once again, your journey into the mind is startling. Can we ever fully comprehend it, well, hardly, but these efforts are a joy to read. I love the last lines, '...can only explain as incoherent noise; waves that break far beneath the surface.' What an amazing insight.
Well at long last Amberlee! Beautiful poem-lovely comparison between the water and the dreamwork.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If u don't think that i am flattering; let me confess; this poem; every word is gold...u could create right ambience with those beautiful words; ; ; how I missed ur poems so far? ? ? ! !