Underneath The Falling Icicles Poem by Nika McGuin

'You belong to the temporary moments of a dream'
a dream cut short - and yet we stand,
waiting for it to begin again
for it to finish where it left off
could it be the unknowing nature of it all
that keeps us frozen in expectancy, and in time
maybe tomorrow night, or the next after
the dream will pick up in the middle of its last scene

dreams oft carry such warmth
warmth, that makes waking cold
and as sharp as a falling icicle
for some, waking is too painful
for some have chosen encapsulation
inside tombs of fire whose casings,
consist of sheets upon sheets of ice
ice that awaits the dreamer's awakening
longs to grip them in its icy embrace

There too are those bitter dreams
that seep their way into waking hours
like one you wish you hadn't told
so that it wouldn't come true
alas, you did speak it
and here it is upon you now
-the most dreadful of daymares-
and finds you in the dead of night
do not say, that your mother
had not warned you against it

But where does one go, when both waking
and sleeping lives are haunted
by fears of the future and ghostly memories?
waiting for the dream to return at last
they lie frozen beneath the icicle laden eaves