poet to poet

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

In reply to:

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

(quoting one who quoted 'A Dream Within a Dream' by Edgar Allen Poe)

 

'tis not so, though i confess that even of myself, i know not the truth that awaits behind my own intent, my knowledge is so limited, my sight so short, all too easy would it be for me, to say i conceive simply inside a dreamer's dream. perhaps if one Day, He brings me to fruition, or least to a place not so far distant, your hands would find my face, to know for certain i was real, i in fact exist. could i not say the same? as a nomad might oft wont to be, trekking solo through his life, searching and seeking, nearly never finding though He might bring one's beloved nearer to his breathing. but, i care not for what i see or how things seem, just i care for how they truly are, a fact i know my eyes can not yet taste, for you haven't yet graced me with your nearness. so when one speaks of truth or fiction, it would not be fair to dismiss, if one has not yet feasted on one's dreams, and say of one's perfect kiss = "it is not true, merely dream that doth not exist!"....if i could make a claim, i'd say i live to be the antidote to such conjectures, such plots in the minds of poets like Poe who felt so deeply (and too often darkly sad), ones i suspect that could not find at hand their resonance. but! resonance does exist, it is true and waiting to be tasted, i swear this by the One Who is my Maker, He has shown me this, in places both slightly past the tips of my fingers and in the eyes of a Gift He brought (thus far) to me nearest. from resonance complete, to resonance in shades, at the End of this road, my beloved may harvest from the ocean as much love as they wish in to bathe, warm and soft, or cool and rising, rain as it's gently falling, or air in its rush as flying.

iA