I had this strange dream .
As if i were waking up
in another time ...
I'm here and this part of me elsewhere
like the seed of a fleshless fruit ...
I felt the softness of a hand
caressing my face ,
the impression of a distant future
that I would never reach ,
of a a far-off passion that i'll never live
in love with a body I would never touch...
Once again the ground has shaken slightly
and the protective spirits seem to be dancing...
This summer night is warm and mild ,
and the words of a deep silence ...
The nearby mountain seems to be saying ''Come ! ''
But I'll go back to sleep and find the arms
of this seductive stranger ...
Who are you whose hands graze my cheeks
as if questioning the secrets of my story ?
Resurrecting me from a mineral prison ?
These fingers that winds back the age ,
recovering the memory of a burning cloud...
( Antonia Aemilia )
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 6th, 2025 08:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
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Comments3
And from dreams arise great passions that are often lost in the quenching daylight. A beautiful write
To know the secret of a dream is to know its time .
The dream becomes a space where the spirit can be released from the “prison” of the body to touch something greater - the immortal history hidden beneath the ashes of time.
Fascinating dive into the strata of time that transcends dimensions.
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