Sleepwalkers Poem by Edmund V. Strolis

The sleep-walker lost within a dream! We are all sleep-walking all the time even when we thump our chests and swear by the so-called waking reality. I hear echos of ancient Indian thought in your poem where they classify things into real (the truth) , non-real (that which take birth and perish in time) and unreal (like your unicorn, a horned rabbit or a barren woman's son) . That last line reminded me of a poem I wrote long ago. It is titled Inebriation. It is at PH. I invite you to read it if time permits. (10)

There are those who sleepwalk through their days on earth, plodding down a well-worn path, then there are others who try to stay awake to the song of life in crickets and bees and birds and sagebrush and a stranger's kindly smile. Life is a feast if one is awake, that is. Great write. Thought-provoking.10