Dreamer

Are my dreams real?
Oh how I want to feel the sliding patterns,
The shapes that make the space
Where I sleep at night.
Were that the world,
And this just a swirl of meaningless objects,
The touches and clutches and feels
Just nothings and no ones,
Perhaps the universe
Wouldn’t disperse as it does and
Come together,
Gather together,
With me a part of it all.
A dream is smaller than me,
But might grow tall as tree trunks
And branches
And leaves.
Waking up is like being scattered
Across and under seas
Too deep to find the end.