On The Edge of Dreams

On the edge of dreams
And waking sleep

Hoping to remember,
but not counting on lucidity.

Waiting to drift off
and blindly accept
reality for what it is,
illusion, or not,
Dreams or Waking life

Restlessness and hypnotic sleep,
all wrapped into one.
Restlessness in pieces
Pieces of thoughts
resurfacing in the land of dreams

Counting sheep never worked for me
Neither does thinking of Not Thinking
Drifting off is like a reverse meditation.

Not thinking of Nothing,
but allowing random,
stray thoughts to surface
My breath slows,
Deepens

An then I'm in the Dream World

Paths that I take,
streams that I travel,
All so familiar,
yet like lost parts of my youth,
slammed together

I travel far,
along the roads,
by raft down river,
running from some unknown foe
down wooded slopes,
through forests of fantasy,
To find magical houses to take refuge in

Losing my bags, and never refinding them,
just finding adventure after adventure
of new Dream Characters,
to guide me along my paths,
For I lost my mission
and my quest
long ago,
When I lost my memory and my mind.
Look for those hidden objects that were lost,
and you only open a new door,
a path to a new adventure.

Let's pick up a few things at the astral mall,
Where dreams & power
can be bought at a price
While your friends are turned into mice,
& sold at the astral petstore

There's a Chinese Restaurant and Casino
Where my car is parked
in an adjoined parking structure.
No wall between the
gambling hall and the car lot
It flows straight through,
to a different scene,
But if I look, no matter how hard,
near and far, I'll never find that car

The lesson I learn in this Dream,
is that as long as you keep looking,
you'll never find what you're searching for.

I left the crew a while back,
when I went to retrieve my backpack
I left at that bench a few blocks back,
I don't realize I'll never see them again
For the streets are shifting,
Like a Dark City Adjustment Bureau
Always switching, ever Tuning a new reality

I always wander into an old tavern,
with a new cast of characters,
Who teach me new dreamland tricks,
before I'm on my way,
Trying to gather the pieces.

I feel that I'm always on
the outskirts of a major festival,
but I cannot find my way.

I find that I am in the borderland,
Between the Festivals of The Living
and the festivals of the dead,
Avalonian portals to faerie worlds
open to my invitation, as a guest

A dawning light, from a Dream figure:
"You know This is a dream, right?",

And then my body begins to rise,
levitating off the ground,
psychedelic hanging plants
beckon me upwards

Relearning to fly,
floating on the updraft,
defying gravity yet again.
Soaring so high, so fast,
that when I land,
I'm in a new and different land

Faerie festivals and parades
Call out a new springlike season,
while I soar above,
I feel this magickal love,
and the grass and trees are
a hue of green,
not seen in the mortal plane

As I awaken in my bed, not wanting to let go,
I wonder if this life is the trip,
and this waking reality I am forced to live
Is the Dream,
and those other worlds were all too real.

Sleeping myself awake,
on the edge of dreams
and waking sleep