I Don’t Dream When I Sleep
From the Darkness I emerge,
Stirring from my Slumber.
The Light of Day creeps
it’s way from the horizon.
But a heavy fog soon
envelops the scenery,
Consuming all and wrapping
all in its thick gray embrace.
I see figures going about their way,
Occasionally, one or two
holds aloft a bright lamp
that guides them on their way
I move closer to them as they pass,
hoping to glimpse what paths they see
with their guiding light held aloft,
For I have no light of my own.
The weather turns cold,
and I shiver in its heatless grasp.
and amongst the figures that I pass along my way.
Some have made a hearth for themselves,
it’s light and heat drives the cold and gloom away.
I huddle near their hearths
to feel the heat of their burning fires.
The day wanes,
and night rises to take its place.
Perhaps when I stir from my slumber,
I shall steal a glance again
the light that guide others
and partake in the heat
burning in their hearths.
For today, I lay my head to rest
and return from the darkness I emerged.