Dreams: Part II

To take one's meager sleeping dreams
and cast them up into the beams
to shadow them against the light
and ponder them, your given right
to second guess, to tiptoe back
and realize they were good as black
dark as night, without the light,
these dreams, of ignorance delight?

"No, they're real", you quell, you fight,
"My dreams are all within my sight"

But who does call a dream a dream
when all a person ever needs
are simple things, are quiet minds
(Tolle, wow you've got me this time.)

So why the romance, how the skill
of rolling mountains up a hill.
Do dreams die fast a quiet death
if ignored, if given rest?

I dream, I dream, I dream, I dream
that if ignored, I must, I might
save these dreams I keep tonight.