We Wake and Find our Lives were Dreaming
Our dreaming makes reality unreal—
The dreaming makes the universe more dream
Than actuality. Then daydreams feel
More vibrant than our lives and make them seem
A vanishing mirage, pastel and pale,
Like watercolors spread across a sweep
Of spiritual paper. Our night dreams sail
Like pitching, rolling oil tankers deep
In maelstroms above the Mariana
Trench, life like a Caribbean cruise in
Ghost-blue boats, more like midnight Montana
Painted by a saint who only licked sin.
Each life is like a photocopy of
Death. Dreams are hate and everything above.