The Dream

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I float through blushing sunset, breathe 
in the surrounding serene. In my mind’s
eye a strong desire arises, ‘to let juvenile
life become a lasting dream.’

Perpetually swaying amid waving water 
lilies, hear rustling behind roof of leaves
dazed by sounds of woodland creatures.
For a second, I thought of running away
but then remembered fear’s a beast that
feeds on attention.

To my delight, the creatures bowed and
played, we feed on cantaloupe in cavern
where we lay. Fragrant gales, embraced 
my naked flesh, I pluck out wildflowers,
and turn them into mesh.

Just then, the soul awakes.



Photo credits: Henri Rousseau

Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads

26 Replies to “The Dream”

  1. a delightfully dreamy poem Sanaa..i’m not familiar with the artist but his lions are hilarious.

  2. This is quite luscious, Sanaa. You have inhabited the painting with all its rigorous colours and textures – part fear and part freedom.

  3. ” fear’s a beast that
    feeds on attention.”

    Absolutely. I say we starve it and put our attention on other things when we can.

  4. I love the entire poem, especially the last line. In a way, it lets me imagine that even though the soul awoke from the wonderful dream, there is a chance that the flesh can still feel its pleasures.

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