Poems Out Of Dreams

All these poems,
Out of dreams,
Dreams writing poems,
High in the billowing clouds,
Words flying across the blue sky,
Floating over ocean waves,
Diving into the depths of the cold sea,
Where whales sound,
Discovering untold mysteries,
With King Neptune frolicking,
Swimming with shimmering mermaids,
As titanic coral reefs rise gloriously,
Pristine from the ocean floor,
All the way to the awesome sky,
Where we fly,
Yet if something refuses to fly,
It inevitably crashes,
So we must learn to fly,
So we don't crash,
Even though we don't have feathers or wings,
Even if we just learn to fly,
In our perceptive mind,
Otherwise down we come,
Gravity forcing us,
Where we crash,
Some times burn,
Some times land,
A soft landing,
Or a hard landing,
To the unforgiving ground,
All in our minds eye,
Depending on how weighty,
Depending on how lopsided,
Depending on how aerodynamic,
Our thoughts are,
How lofty our ideals are,
How full of air our lungs are,
Depending on if we are hollow,
Or if we are dense or narrow,
Down we'll come,
Falling in our dreams,
Discovering, finding that in the end,
Our story always concludes the same,
Or almost the same,
Either soaring forever,
Eventually reaching enlightenment and Nirvana,
Or descending, plummeting like a stone,
Arriving in our liquid dreams,
And slowing sinking,
To the bottom of the sea,
Realizing we are one with nothingness,
Discovering gravity has no hold on us,
We are but we aren't,
So we become Heaven,
So God wraps us in his nothingness,
So we become God,
Where we discover all things have passed,
Where Buddha and Jesus and Mohammed,
Have dwelt all along,
Beings simply like us,
In that spectral light and dimension,
Where the dream and the poem and the song,
Are all the same vibration,
Existing on the same wavelength,
Performed in the very same key,
Where nothing is nothing is nothing,
Forever more, all the way to infinity.