Awake

Is place,
A part of pattern?
Or can what I feel,
What I see,
Be both,
Simultaneous,
And irrespectively,
Separate?..
Devoid,
Of where I sit?
In the void,
Of this mental state?
In part conflict and,
Departed possession.
In heart,
Hope,
For some other,
Direction.
The binding of inanimate dreams,
The tangible,
Symbology,
Of retold,
Stories.
Their reluctance knows,
My reluctance,
To face that final sleep,
And leave,
The confines of what we know, restricts.
To awake,
Upon a life,
Untold and unwritten,
Awake,
Upon a life as yet,
Small enough to hold,
But,
Whole enough,
To grow.