OF TIME AND DREAMS

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What is that time called

Just before sleep fully takes over

When the night-mind, in acid-etched clarity

Lines up the day’s matters

Forcing them to kneel in pain’s shadow?

What is that time called

That sounds its claxon for battle 

Swinging the Damoclesean sword

Slashing away

The nubile dreams of the innocent?

The time just before being delivered

To the mercy of that clamor

Accompanying the onset of dreams

That time when heart and brain come

Together each with its own music;

Sharps and flats dueling for supremacy

Offering a clarion call sometimes

So lovely as to be taken as anthem

Shepherding the heart

Through sunsets,

Births,

Deaths,

Success,

Failure;

The basic drawing-and-quartering of life.

What is that time called?

Night Dreams

Night comes

Easing an orange sun

Over earth’s dreary edge

Cares drown on the horizon

Yet return in the day’s catch

Some slipping through the wide

Knit of net

Forgotten

Others left unsorted

On the pillow

Of dreams

Caste,  unremembered

Dismembered chunks

Until the slow insurrection

Of a pink and purple daubed

Day break forces fear

To organize and

We remember