As Waking Dream

sitting shoreside wondering
just how many: 
colors — dreams — days — roads — words — feelings
not yet discovered…

while curling waves beat gray
the shells shimmered on microscopic rainbow rocks
and crabs scattered over kelp ropes
from daybreak to dusk, from head to heart
lids close in hope for answers lost

for answers lost,
close eyes and see.


answers never come as one expects
paint your own picture
forge unmapped paths

for it’s not the colors that aren’t there
it’s not the dreams and days gone
it’s not barricaded roads and blocked words
or feelings fleeting out of reach

— it’s the spirit unopened to life’s song

the wind churns a painter’s palette
mixing unlikely blends
the soaring soul spreads carte blanche wings
along carte blanche white matter canvas
and with every swoop a new shade

until upon opening already open eyes

the view…a masterpiece

the world a museum

an art as vivid

as waking dream



~ Emily C.


12 thoughts on “As Waking Dream

    1. This one was a tug ‘o war…you know the kind where you have a concept/philosophy you want to verbalize but the words put up a fight? Haha…I think I won in the end. Thank you, Eric! 🙏🏼😊

      Liked by 1 person

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