A New Year: Part i

This year gently ending,
            with your eyelids

        falling asleep,
we’re lost at sea, each
        swell of the surface
            is a pull
from the deep
                    & each
second is threatened
by a silence waiting
to claim the music
            in shivering

plays games with sound-waves;
        a spiderweb
                across the darkness
as we segue into dreams.

For hours we remain there
        but such time
has no significance
            where we are.

In the morning, when the mind emerges
        – a butterfly crawling
            from its chrysalis,
                given the gift
                    of one day to live –
you will tell me abour your dreams.

They are sometimes mundane,
but often they are strange
            & beautiful:

a flock of birds somehow derail the train
taking you to an unknown destination,
but you escape disaster
by leaping from a window
        & land softly
            in a meadow
                of wildflowers.

I don’t speak about my dreams,
because, it seems,
I only ever remember those most

shards of glass
as a crowd attacks &
        tears the flesh from my bones
            with their hands.

This doesn’t make me fear sleep;
there is
        something laying deeper,
within me
that I really fear.

I don’t think I want to know what that is.

        the year has ended:

as the new one begins, what we
are waking to will be something
            different, &
this year
        our dreams
            will no longer be
                so divergent.

One thought on “A New Year: Part i

  1. Pingback: A New Year: Part ii | Words for Ghosts

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