Cafe' of dreams,
are you my meditation hall,
where instead of in rows
on pillows, watching thoughts,
we sit at little tables,
committing thoughts to paper,
thoughts and feelings, too,
returning stronger to the world,
carrying a gift,
or are you more
like an opium den in which,
imbibing potions,
each one dreams
a vapid dream,
creating worlds that don't exist
and battling shadows
that never walked the earth?
Oh! I really like this one, Max. An opium den? ? ? ? Perhaps. 'battling shadows that never walked the earth' describes what happens in our dreams and often in our poetry. Nice. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An imaginative pair of contrasting inspirations - the first, meditative, austere; the second, wild, phantasmagorical dramatic. Equally important to the creative muse, I believe. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxx