Just a dream
When I was a child
I use to always dream of falling
falling down with
nothing to hold on to and with
nothing to save me.
Like a wingless angel
falling from ether
I fell and screamed for
hours and hours and hours.
I saw myself falling
from cliffs
from rooftops
from trees
and sometimes staircases
beneath me would crumble and
my descents would start.
But I would always wake up just before
I hit the ground, always.
I would wake up with sweat all over me and
my heart pounding fast
this dream always
left me
frightened.
But my mother's soothing words
would help calm me down
"It is just a dream, you are alright now, it was just a dream."
I was not afraid of the fall really
rather I was afraid of the wake
always waking up just before
I hit the ground and never, after.
It left me with a burning question; what happened when I hit the ground, death obviously, but
what happened next?
What will happen when I die?
This question had haunted me for as long as I could remember
But I found my answer as I grew older
in the same old words my mother had
used to calm me.
"It is just a dream, you are alright now, it was just a dream."
As I always wake up when I hit the ground in my dreams
when I die in
my dreams
I will also wake up
when I die in
reality and
my mother will be there
again
to tell me that I am alright
for this reality we call life is only itself
just a dream.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Madness
诗歌The Lonely Poet Love Letters to the wolf princess in blue Him and Her I write to pour out my feelings and my imaginations some of my poems may not make sense, but what is "sense" really? This is beautiful madness. Enjoy. Or Not. Victor Forna
