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6:30 a.m. (Waking to Nothing)

where are my dreams?
do they vanish in the air?
or do they gestate into transformative bodies of ideas,
crawling and rolling naked from their own beds before disappearing forever,
replaced by new dream mutations in a blinding flash -
a pulsing cycle of birth and rebirth existing within me
yet never revealing itself

how do I claim my dreams?
must my head explode outward?
releasing angels and demons, spirits and souls,
flying, clawing, moaning and longing, freed from an empty existence to reality,
or should I sit in the corner of my existence -
refusing to face my hopes and fears
yet yearning forever to know them

where are my dreams?


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6:30 AM (Waking to Nothing), by Paul Cales, © November 2001