I tiptoe gently in my dream,
Wondering if a mirage, or is it real?
Will it happen or be surreal,
That which I see when I do dream?
The pictures I see in my Mind,
Supplanted there for me to see,
When I do, at night, close my eyes.
Why are those pictures so unkind?
When I awake in the morn,
Will I remember what I’ve dreamt?
Or will the memory faded be,
Like other memories, that came and went?
I know that I do sometimes dream,
We all do that, so I’m told,
But what we see, may not seem
To be so vivid or so bold.
So, I tiptoe gently in my dreams,
Lest my loud steps waken me with a cry,
And I leave unfinished other scenes,
Which will not be depicted in my mind’s eye.
© Yisroel Yonatan Goldman – [JGthepoet] - 10 November 2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem