If dreams were physical,
I should think they'd be crystals -
Only somewhat clear.
They are as soft and as hard as a glockenspiel's notes.
Oneiric ocean waves lap at the mind's feet
And tease the Eye with knowledge of beyond.
What is a dream, anyhow?
Is it real, and this the long subconscious excursion?
Dreams are an elf's breath, a dragon's tears.
What blue, astral, heavenly cloud could compare
To dark mental forests and speaking birds?
The winds of mountain seas are calling.
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