#4: Night dreamer

In a timeless place, no awareness of night and day,
The conscious awakens, threads of pictures,
scenes, moments, feelings, breaking through the surface.

Eyes don't open, for threads begin running loose,
Already losing a dream or two,
Quickly recalling the ones that remain,
Thinking them over and over again.

Hands reach out to the spiralled-together paper,
Tucked next to the pillow, pencil in place,
Readied in the night.
Hands scrawl memories, eyes open merely a shadow,
Mind rushing through dreams, about adventures, laughter and flowery meadows.

Together the papers get thicker each year,
Bearing dreams of a collector,
With no sure purpose, other than to remember,
There's a world wholly created, a world of one's own,
That's as beautiful and ugly,
As the one the body owns.

***

This got thought-up while I was going through a notepad I had kept for a short while, intermittently, to record dreams. To say I was astonished would be an understatement. It was full of WEIRD scenarios with the most unusual characters (Batman's Joker, people from my junior school I haven't thought about in years, Dracula, people as vampires, friends conjuring up spells using wands--I managed Lumos!!--my childhood toy pygmypuff, Frankenstein's creature, to name a few). The best thing was the way I'd written them down. Good sentences that I might not have managed in wakefulness. Straight in lines, despite being in the dark, eyes nearly closed. Am I awesome or what!?

In case this is the first NaPoWriMo poem you're reading on this blog, check out the NaPoWriMo website here to know about it.

I'm also in a personal, very healthy competition with this friend (click here) whose writing makes me want to think hard before I write, and to write the very best, because that is what he does. Trust me, (because I'm an editor) there's an undiscovered gem.