My dreams have taglines; colored lights forming words,
scrolling across the bottom or the top
to awaken a sleeping brain.
Sometimes, bold sentences
within thick-lined boxes to draw attention.
My tired body sometimes fails to notice or understand
the insights my vivid dreams demand.
As I dreamt last night and viewed my last scenes
a box appeared with a message to be gleaned:
TO GO FORWARD IT IS OFTEN BEST TO LOOK TO THE PAST
WHERE YOU HAVE BEEN BEFORE.
And, then, I awoke to my here and unformed now
wondering what part of past
informs a future built to last.
Dreams leave clues like any good mystery.
Dreams fragment history.
Dream introduce me to strangers
who tell their stories, and not my own.
I wake confused yet excited to explore
the fading dream some more.
I turn on lights to brighten the dark morning,
awaiting a breathless sunrise
to seep beneath shades hiding the night,
which might bring surprises to my door.
It is difficult to see a future
when these days are so dark.
Dreams tell me to see clearly
my future relies upon seeing my past.
I search each dark corner
with a flashlight in my hand.
If I can see what brought me here,
where I now wonderingly stand,
I can see a future brighter than indignation,
more solid than fearful imagination.
A future where strangers’ stories become my own,
and I can grow from seeds I have sown
in the dark soil, now,
so well known.
