Recollecting a dream
December 1, 2000
The Iranian
.
I had a dream
When the Halloween was splashed out
Over the colony of my quicksilver agonies.
.
I found myself turning into a children's song -
Repetitious but always new
Mundane but forever etched
Into a forgetful glorious memory.
.
And it was there and then
When my heart asked: "Why
Is our time so cold and the weather short?
Why do dreams happen in the streets
While reality dwells
Only in our convoluted mind?
Does this mean that I could be you
If you could only be me?"
.
I had no answer but knew
That if one immersed in such liquid thoughts
One could surely end up
Jumping over the moon
Only to fall
Into the brute arms
Of secluded mares.
.
And then, right then
(Seeing love
Creeping out of a mass of suffocating chests
Oozing into the ugly deathtraps
Of human follies)
My philosopher/politician self began to ponder:
"Tell me frankly what is wrong
With our understanding of Time
And the primordial essence of Life?"
.
But it was then, exactly then,
When I saw an illuminated messenger of despair
Lurking over my books
Whirling in the void of their words
and covering her face
With a veil of insanity.
.
****
.
O, you!
The invisibility of a dream!
The hidden voice of a fading life!
The murmuring songs of a murdered Solomon!
.
Within a blink
I was found and lost
Surrendered to the lectures of stoned philosophers
And mutterings of capsized politicians.
.
And, look! look!, look!
The inevitable mourning
Is on again
With its chaotic symphony
Of our daily chorus.
.
Dreams are, once again,
Prisoners of unconscious,
And a wild unknown saffron breeze
Is descending onto the ecstasy
Of a numbed chest
Filled with the treasures
Of a truthful moment.
.
Yes,
It's time
To flash back
Into the
Everydayness
Of this
Unusual
Fall.
-- Denver, November 17, 2000
