DREAM INTERPRETATION

In the end, life is but a dream,

a daily recurring dream mistaken 

for a transformative vision we can make lucid.

Instead, the unavoidable folly of our living actions

imprints in how we interpret that dream,

in how we warp its field of vision,

in how we freely associated it away in shadowy illusions.

Into divine dreamtime we assert what we deem essential,

no matter how ephemeral, no matter how discordant.

We cast ourselves upon roiling tides of emotion

with drives and schemes that crash us on the rocks,

all the while clinging tight 

to the complex phantoms we are led to value.

We play out our projections symbolically

in who we try to be and what we choose to believe.

All of it we foolishly identify with as real.

In the end, we must let it all go, all of it.

It flows from us without analysis,

it fades to nothing in our fatuous fog taken for fate.

And then, after the end,

perhaps our inscrutable living dream merges beyond

only to awaken upon the start of another dream,

this time a dream without a dreamer but a dream nonetheless,

a dream that is dreamt when the only thing that remains of us

is the shining void of our active imagination – 

surrendered, thereby exalted.