Portal

Dead Poets Live Prompt “Dreams”

Heavenly realm, deciduous trees fortify the air; entering the portal of intrepidation in the manner of submission.

Dreams; recluse behind the subconscious, you cannot receive the perception~they spew forth, such is, conception of imagination, do you resign?

Coal of the underworld, reach into the crater, pull forth obsidian, organs of the wild occupy etheric space, crafted to perfection, waking you in cold sweat or sensations, which you wish not to release.

An occupation in it’s own right~ dreaming of Portugal; embedded seas, amiss, one joins the army of persuasion, unaware of the waking~next days conjured in living light.

You dissociate, obsolete in the face of the hurricane which chases, alleviate mind’s tension, satiate the desire for burrowing in the underground.

Dreams~reality unoccupied by warfare are the perfect compliment to questions of dimensions~do you exist?

Holy Jesus and Holy ghost, attachment to outcome even in REM, questioning sanity, questioning reality; life is the illusion, the greatest.

Apparatus of release, love is also displayed, leave the dreamer unsatisfied upon waking, time for the 365, at ten, eleven perhaps, the cycle repeats.

Anna Rozwadowska 2019