to wake to a cello
playing Bach
in the forest
How strange
This is no dream
Fingers moving
over the neck
Bow angling
back and forth
What patience
What mastery
You have wished
to learn to master
What secret dream
There is yet time
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
I see faces
I hear their words
I remember what I've forgot
Other lives
Other days
Still here
Still alive
Still willing
All these words
merely drops
of thought
from one life
to another,
in another time,
in another place,
in another world.
Open the door and look inside.
Are they still sleeping?
Are you still dreaming?
Where have I seen this before?