Dreaming Of Electric Sheep Poem by Lua Cordelia

Counting sheep and dreaming awake:
While I dream my dreams under the shade
of furs and shivering death, I linger near the edge
of a cliff, unborn, open to the sky,
ready to leap into the uncharted abyss.
I forget myself, vulnerable and prone
when I enter the world of dreams.
Lately the ride seems like electric sheep,
now words have less currency.
Perhaps the words of a poet are truer:
I climb the heights, seek a refuge,
to live is to die.

All that surrounds me is
unbound by the body, the flesh;
this is my dream, not the shadow
of sheep or the barking of a dog
or any vision at all, but the truth:
there is no God, and there is no death,
there is only the shadow of a dream.
Whether familiar or foreign I have never
known. The beauty of the night:
awake or asleep, a dream is a dream.