I used to have a golden dream
I retreated to for relief,
For belief
Once -- maybe twice --
I saw stars in a darkened sky
I used to believe in things like dreams, and stars,
And skies
Perhaps I've traded
Promises of the night
For the fragile realities of daytime?
The green of leaves
The explosion of flowers
The sturdiness of living wood,
The harbingers of the living world
There is glory in these,
No doubt
And having been in greying rooms
That were just here, just now
Which required dreams to live through
I am grateful for fragility,
No doubt
But shouldn't a life
-- Real and full --
Have day and night,
Dreams, stars, and sunlight?
Perhaps -- perhaps
I need a different dream
Before I can open my eyes
In this other darkened room
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