We live in three worlds;
The real, the imaginary, and the dream.
The real has nuts and bolts and such,
And quit clutters our lives with lint.
The imaginary we can fill day or night,
With things we like to invent.
But the world of dreams is different,
It’s neither tangible nor created by us.
It opens without our behest,
And closes again without fuss.
It is peopled by friends know long ago,
Or by strangers, strangers who came at night.
Dreams mix-up our acquaintances,
Until, though out of place, seem right.
Dreams can scare us into awakening,
So glad the cliff or lion scene,
Was not quit completed, or is so
The lion wasn’t even mean.
Or dreams can send us into a humorous world,
Where logic can go or stay,
And we ‘waken ourselves laughing,
And wonder why it’s colored this way.
Oh, we live in three worlds here and now.
The real, the invented, and dreams.
But in the one we control least of all,
Is the one famous for its night-time themes. -eab, 2/1996
Written while pastoring the Bible Holiness Chapel in Olerichs, South Dakota
Separate-Holy 