My dreams are vivid again.
Not in colour just in pain.
Except last night, when I dreamt
of a chasm laced with darkness;
a darkness so inviting I dived in
– arms wide, left to right.
I fell and I floated
and I found myself
at the very bright, blue bottom.
A river turning emerald in the shallows.
At the mouth’s edge there stood an azalea tree.
Tall.
Blooming in pink, pink, pink.
Blooming in softness and green
– thick, lush leaves.
The sun came down in orange slices,
playing dapple along
the ever moving shore and green.
And then I opened my eyes.
And no, the sun wasn’t shining.
And no, I did not seek answers in
the night which had passed.
I woke to grey and a dimly lit bedroom
and felt thankful no bones were broken
from the fall.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020
Yes!
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Aha thank you, Devereaux!
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Of course!
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“The sun came down in orange slices,
playing dapple along
the ever moving shore and green.” I really enjoyed this poem. The vividness of it and then the ending which I just related to so strongly. It explained the way we often feel when we have a beautiful dream we don’t want to awake from and then we do and how sometimes it is difficult to leave that time we have dreamt about. Beautiful! Love Joni
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Aw thank you so much for your kindness Joni 💛💛💛
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So deserving, really such a lovely piece Kristiana. Love Joni
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Oh loved the imagery:)
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Thank you, Pallavi!
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