A nice prescription of sleep
I took when the day proved awry
And found myself when I blinked
In a dreamscape so wide.
Tho' it was hard to believe -
I saw a meadow without end;
My crying stopped to think
Of where the Tiller went.
I saw in hues I'd never seen;
The sky emoted rest.
I searched the horizon -
Sure that there were secrets.
And of time? What did it mean
To the birds above the field?
To the excitable bee
Nourished by a fallen tear?
And then - I startled -
And facing a morning sun -
Felt my heart's wound dulled -
Almost like it'd never happened.
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Author:
Amy Michelle Mosier (
Offline)
- Published: February 16th, 2025 12:54
- Category: Sad
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: whats write for me
Comments3
Enchanting prose, a privileged read. Thank you for sharing. Reminds me of the movie What Dreams May Come.
Excellent write
Wounds anesthetized whether by drug or anything else seldom heal as well. A wonderful write and deep as the rabbit hole the metaphor takes you down
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