Portraits of a Dream.

I dreamt the other night.
It was a dream of a night,
of dust and angels.
The details were relaxed.

Running on water,
I had the leap of a thousand fold.
The background changed often enough.
I don’t think I covered any distance though.

I heard them call us for prayers,
The songs were of an unknown tongue.
Now, I noticed.
I was running on a road of faces.

Each face brought a story.
Each story was a dream.
It’s a good thing I had my dream-catcher.
I would need reading material for later.

The Road to Heaven was of regret and pain.
Ironic, she said as I hopped on her shoulders.
Hold on, she said as we skipped over the fences.
Go find your dreams, I wish I’d said to her.

They came from nowhere.
She was now gone.
I didn’t know the reason or mood.
She left me with a rhyme and a tune.

Waking up in a sweat,
A dream within a nightmare.
I was running scared,
With my heels left brittle and bare.

Yet, there was a smile on the face.

And, a glint in those eyes.

The subconscious knew.

While the conscious ignored.