To Awake Poem by Smoky Hoss

So many faces in the lines
on the ceiling above my bed,
I lay here seeing
autostereograms created in my head.
Moonlight shines through the shade
painting a perfect picture on the wall,
soft, gentle sounds come calling
from an open window down the hall.
In the calm of night, all seems right, but
in the terrible still of dark, I hear voices,
past ghosts pondering
life's many irretrievable choices.
Perhaps simply a mistake of mind, or
a trick of ear,
possibly a culmination of misgivings
brought upon myself, year after year.
These many questions come
with answers I know I cannot know,
I only listen to the dream...
saying, "Awake, and go."

So whether in a dream of sleep, or
longing when awake,
I must follow the call, if only
for the voices sake.
Hoping to discover that this journey
is not really fey,
rather a wayward path going home,
and not alone...
communally a finding, of our way.