Treasure Island

Michael Wride

(December,5th 1968 / Wells, Somerset, England, UK)

The Dreamer by the Sea

They don't know where I go
So quiet in the dead of night
The wind stings like fire
Along with the rain
Splashing, punching me
With its pins of fire

All the while
Crush the ground
Push it down
Laughing inside at what I've lost
Outside myself
Outside belief

Drift ever on
To nowhere
To the beach
To see the dreamer by the sea
To ponder on what he'll tell me

The dreamer by the sea
They all say he's mad
Like me
Inside me
The dreamer by the sea
Lives in a cave
When he can
Or else he sits on the rocks
Until the tide arrives
Sparks fly from his eyes
Like stars they glow

He listens to the voices of the pebbles
How they have endured the beating of time
He talks with the waves
And tells me
About the way things were
When he was young
Challenges, asks, knows

The dreamer by the sea

And when I arrive
He asks me 'Why'?
But I can't say
And he says he knows
Then shows me how to dream
How to be me
On the inside
How to believe

The dreamer by the sea
Caresses the night
With talons of ice

Bright is his light
Spreads its wings
Flies into the distance
Through the deepening blackness
Warning ships with thoughts
Flecking the cliffs
Giving them transparence
Until they become real
To me

How ideas I had were never known
By me
Help me believe

But he knows
Always knew
Been squatting on his perch for years
Millennia I'd say
Digging up ground
Making no sound
Changing shape in the dark
And hiding by day

The dreamer by the sea

Tortures himself while watching birds die
Tears himself to shreds and cries

But I sit and watch
And he tells me all this
Until I walk back to my bed
To what is deemed to be real
Until I walk back to me
To what I believe

The dreamer by the sea

He says 'Goodbye'!
And laughs again
From the cliff tops
From the rocks
In the sea I hear the shuffling of his feet
In the wind I hear the whispering of his profundity

All around
Mixed with the mist
Swirling in the spray
He talks to me

Everywhere I watch and feel
How real it is to me
How real is he
And I realise
I believe in the truth of
The dreamer by the sea

Submitted: Tuesday, January 01, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

This was written in the late 1980s. It is again about the search for wisdom in nature and the blurring of the divide between dreams and the waking world. Where is reality? Inside or outside? The search for truth outside always leads to the recognition that truth and reality are inside and depend on the state of ones own consciousness..awake or asleep.

Comments about this poem (The Dreamer by the Sea by Michael Wride )

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  • Dave Walker (1/1/2013 1:49:00 PM)

    A really fantastic poem. Sometimes dreams can be so clear
    that we only know we was dreaming when we open
    our eyes. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments » Updates

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