These Dreams Poem by Smoky Hoss

They went, they came
The clouds, the rain,
Visions in sleep
Of places deep,
The rooster crows
And off it goes,
With light of day
It all washes away.

More and more the mystic
Is a mind willing to seek,
For Mystery resides
So much on the inside,
Close, yet so far
The song of sun, moon and star,
In quiet moments of the night
A light comes shinning bright,
Like rays of the sun
Peeking through when storm is done.

Of what fabric are these scenes woven
And how amongst the many for me are they choosen? ,
Some so bright
Others, dark as the middle of night,
On and on they come... and they go
For what all reason, I may never know.