Dreaming Again

Blackest night

then scenes appear,

scrawling past my eyes.

Colors form, and light so bright,

to mold the dark blue sky.

From darkness come the faces;

the words once hidden so deep,

spiraling together slowly

in the place where memories meet.

They dance across my pillow,

keeping tempo with the clock;

then stretch amongst the bedding,

and run ‘til forced to stop.

Until waking hours they whisper to me,

telling secrets they swore they would keep;

and with fascinated eyes behind sleepy lids,

I’ll watch them play out a scene.

Horizon’s light creeps in the window,

a new day soon to begin;

the pictures hide

as darkness fades,

to return another night.