D r e a m / R e a l / D r e a m

There, there on the stairs
Wooden, rickety
Not knowing which direction to take
Letting the dream decide as it must/as it will
With weird logic if that's what it is
Dream of god knows what but won't tell
Not to me at least
Perhaps to some other who is other than I
Stairway in an old temple of some deity lost to history
And the temple itself in a desolate place also lost to history
To which I have come without wish or bargain to plea for.
As it was in Venice that beautiful night I dreamed myself in a beautiful place the equal of the city and just as bewildering with beauty.
As if I had come upon the place of perfect beauty -and I had.
Even remembering it in this dream
Hoping I take the right direction to lead me to those islands again
It is always thus-
Dream following its own logic
So was that your face at the window?
Was that your hand which lightly took mine?
No matter.
The islands wait and the deity reigns to his own end and I accept whatever comes next
Ah Venice you are not so familiar that I grow tired of you and look for somewhere else to walk in and be bewildered by.
As the scene shifts and the god stirs within the temple to distribute his alms and gifts.
What will be mine?
What will I take from this that I might show to you and she who rests beside me?
Perhaps only this.
Perhaps only a wisp of a truth that holds and reigns in this place.
If so let it be so.
Let this be dream/real/dream as the day arrives and breaks into the specific lucidity of night.
Let me remember what needs to be remembered.