Journey Of Another Night's Dreams Poem by Robert Rorabeck

The same as the waves who are in
My soul—
They are still burning, while my wife sleeps,
While the house sinks,
And the Earth turns underneath the
Diademed atmospheres of
The heavens—
Wherever we are,
The cars pull out of driveways,
To conjoin with avenues,
And there are births
And deaths—
The greatest of mountains have already
Formed for now—
The angels still have to hold their breaths
While the wishes are blown out
Over the birthday cakes—
And when it rains the cats come inside.
Tired form kissing the lips of coral
Snakes,
The day ends, and the intruders upon
The steps disappear—
A faithful companion sleeps upon the lap
Of otherwise solitude—
And on the other side of the world,
The oil burns—
The dreams of things are sold and
Then returned—
And, right now, as if my dear benefactor,
My wife waits for me in bed,
Hoping I will join beside her in her journey
Of another night’s dreams.