The Purpose of Our Dreams

Languishing in a state of effortless drowsiness
With sleep and awareness engaged in a dance
Neither giving quarter and yet neither advancing
And so I lay in a blissful state on the dreamy edge
Thoughts slipping into a world where all possibilities
All probabilities and all thoughts in-between reside
My limbo unnoticed by the thwarting hands of time
And the morning light still hiding beneath the horizon
I simply exist in a world of my own creation
Projecting effortlessly into worlds still not imagined
And yet within my earthly physique I still remain
Yet I cannot choose the pathways or the setting
For the eye of my mind holds the strings of control
And yet the control means little more than total freedom
Gifts of my collective mind-threads intertwining
Weaving their own imaginations without expectations
Though I’ve given no tithe, no payment, nor toil
I’m rewarded with a journey through a mental fantasy
Time has no bearing and moments play the part of lifetimes
Rules no longer valid, space undetermined, distance unknown
Clouds underwater, musical silence, and nobody cares
It’s beautification of life, or an interpretation of hope
Cleansing of the mental palate to start each day anew
Dreams have their magic but do they have purpose?
Which gives over to questioning on if they have meaning
Should the wolf, or the building, or the clock tell a tale?
So we ask ourselves what and of how and of why
Our waking selves trying to find details connected
Making bold predictions and searching for directions
And yet no one wills to rise above all the occasions
Collecting the collective; the entire premise of dreaming
Might just be our natural way to erase away pain
Push the negative aside, and reinvigorate our will
And the skeptics might raise an eye to this validation
Without looking back, without an investigation
For the moment we rise from the state in-between
We’re happy, refreshed, and it’s owed to our dreams

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R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all.I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed.I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another.I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me.I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

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