What are dreams... except a ragbag
Of images and emotions, some pleasurable
And comforting, others intriguing;
Others still terrifying and disturbing:
An incoherent kaleidoscope of bright colours,
Action and illusion,
Where the story line, however strong or weak,
Is often broken and not realistic, -
Hardly credible, so that we awake
Almost ashamed to relate the tale or tales
Of our sleepy, restless hours.
But then perhaps our conscious lives
Are much like this too – in fact...
And that all of life is indeed but a dream,
Punctuated by biological realties
And imperatives…including breakfast
That now happily approaches –
Boiled eggs, coffee…and all.
