Shadows On The Wall
I awoke from a nightmare
And rolled onto my side
Staring blankly at the wall
In a half awake stupor
Misty vapors wove and unwove
Eerie patterns in my sight
Was I awake or asleep?
I could not determine
I lay there as if intoxicated
Mesmerized by what I beheld
Like watered ink being diffused
Upon watered paper
Spiraling, twisting, undulating
Melting and reforming with
The gyrations of some witch dancing
In a mist shrouded glade
Was I dreaming or was I outside of it?
Viewing the spectacle from elsewhere
I contemplated painting what I saw
Upon canvas; watercolor or oil?
As I had done with the visions
I had seen behind my eyelids
I then perceived doing a poem
About this spectral, this shadowy thing
I was witnessing from half closed eyes
There was a light or was it fire Orange and dim on the verge of my sight
From whence was it coming?
From outside my dream or within?
I reached out to touch the apparition
Was I in a dream or was it me reaching?
It’s hard to tell between the worlds
Ah! The light blinked out
As my hand protruded from my linens
I am actually in the real world
I then proceed to solve the mystery
What am I seeing upon my wall?
But the shadows cast by moonlight
Through my bedroom window
The waving and undulations are
But trees stirred by the wind
The shadows but folds in
My drapes and sheer curtains
The watery expanse but my outside wall
The far coastline but the cross bars
On my window panes
Ere the mind produces such
Imaginary pastoral scenes
My mind seeks to see
That which is sublime
But reality is not as pure
Shadows are real and
Represent something but
They are really; nothing at all