Dream Of This... Poem by Christopher Neil

You come to me in my sleep.
Crashing against my soul like water on the cliffs.
Over and over again,
I feel your presence shape me.
A creation made by your hand,
Like clay could come to life.
Animated by self worth,
I struggle to find my reflection.
But no mirrors reflect this image.
The view of life is inside out.
Like looking through a window,
As I watch the world drive by.
I wave my hand to those who pass,
And smile as they travel.
I wonder which way the road will take them.
Guided by the songs of life.
And which of them can hear the words.
Of a voice so soft it can only be heard
Through the whispering winds,
That kiss your face as you dream of this…