Pieces Of A Dream

O’ Moonlight,
starry sky,
secrets,
dreams
and all things that occupy the night.
Inside, a dark wilderness,
forever, intricate & mysterious,
it is a world beyond things that make sense.
The scape of eternal October,
haunting & romantic.
A huddle of trees, so ever, ever green,
edging on the wild, grey ocean.
Dazzling creatures stirring
deep within the silence,
otherwise an eerie quiet.
I am lost in the moment,
in between the tick and the tock of time,
in between the light
where images rhyme,
where shadows hide,
and the wise, yellow swarm of owl eyes.
The stars, curious in their arrangement,
offer no reason or advice,
only a clutter of white
in their vague, cobalt empire.
Illuminary illusions,
these shards of light
were crushed out long ago,
but how oddly the night remembers
unstilling the darkness
with their strange protrusion
crowning the world with their phantom existence.
I am confused, I look for clues
in water wells...
in a tigers eye...
in witches closets.
I touch the moon,
a golden pool,
or a moody Cyclops.
In my hand, a photograph
of a laughing wizard in a purple hat.
I bow to admire
a motley caterpillar
and wonder why he does not have a hookah?
Dangling from the trees
are words not leaves,
and I carefully choose each one to put in my pocket,
I am saving them for later,
I am saving them for my poem.
I toss, I turn
and emerge awake
and the world suddenly collapses.