In which mind is master

In the midst of a most-hindered sleep,

I lay unaided by my sheep.

Eyelids left to sentry eyes

Clamped shut, restless ‘neath dark’ning skies.

 

But lo, rare seconds beg the mind

To a wondrous place– and dream did I!

Down a rabbit’s hole, one could say

Where day was night and night was day.

 

Strange murmurings of tasks at hand,

In a queer and deconstructed land.

Militant were expectations,

Scorned and scathed were jubilations.

 

Into a second sleep fell I,

A dreamer’s dream in Mind’s third eye.

No guide except my instincts there,

As Alice with the Hatter’s hare.

 

Three consciousness danced ‘neath these tresses,

Confused and gambling in my wake,

Lessons learned, a sister spurned,

A dreamer fearful of mistake.

 

Hark! Too soon the bells did ring,

And unforgiving dawn did bring

The bitter scent of coffee ground,

As dreams they fled,

mind left unsound.

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