If ou can't tell
teh dancer from the dance
how can you separate
the dreamer from the dream
or look to see
purple waves of reality
that form the dreamer
from red pusling strands
of possibility
If life is but a dream
within a dream
then try to count
the falling leaves outside
to tell which way
your feet will follow
tomorrow
Gods of reason
idols of logic
lock your step
to robot rhythm
but the kaleidoscope
visions of reality
sparkling and sun-edged
sleet past you unseen
- as if the world held
no more hope than
the careful donation
to select charity
The dreams that create you,
form the core of your being
you dismiss as no more
than fanciful illusions
dream dust on the storms
of rational grasp
The day the dream makes,
and the dream the day makes
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