Sleep · Unknown

As I sleep I wake the world of my unknown.

The sound, light, and feelings that by day are pushed, back into the shadow of my nameless self.

A place of meeting, of love, dread, of fall and flight.

I embrace my undiscovered land of dream and other place, my unremembered sleep: the fragments of a life less lived.

When open to the push of path beyond my body's grasp, I sow the seed to make, my realm, recast.

 

. . .

I ponder on the line that seperates poetic words and a poem. When words are poetic, their music is apparent, but not at every turn, and their magic less insistent. Poetry is when, from beginnning to end, words are multifaceted. Here I share the same words with different line breaks. One form is no more or less in meaning than the other, but its breath makes a difference to the way it is felt, especially when whispered or spoken aloud.

 

. . .

 

As I sleep

I wake the world of my unknown

The sound, light, and feelings that by day are pushed

Back into the shadow of my nameless self

A place of meeting

Of love

Dread

Of fall and flight

I embrace my undiscovered land

Of dream and other place

My unremembered sleep

The fragments of a life less lived

When open to the push of path

Beyond my body's grasp

I sow the seed to make

My realm

Recast

. . .