Dreams, Dreams We've Had Before Poem by James McLain

If a perfect life all lived
where money had no use
would you be here.

Astute to more than this
you fell asleep
and woke
again
but over there.

Money here is every thing
a thing of need a need for things
where it's
needed only here.

Is there such a place
a place
where all can go
and never
here return because of it.

Gold should be as common
as each grain of sand
and silver course
or smooth as all have hair.

Where sparrow's there
like here
are over there
where beauty never paused.

And Death is but a dream
all dreamed before.