Does what happens in dreams stay in dreams? (a poem)

Last night, I had one of the strangest dreams I’ve had in quite a while…

I couldn’t believe
they’d been hiding the cache
for so long
or that the secret
had been so well-kept
It didn’t explain anything—
except perhaps the depth of their bond

Yet here we were
in this dusty old basement
among pillars of wood
with concrete in between
They pulled out the supplies
from the old wooden box
ready for the mission ahead

One vehicle took off too soon
the old Doc hung on upside down
until he’d no choice but to let go
He fell into the clouds
as the vehicle continued its rise
I ran back into the basement
I wasn’t waiting for the sound…

In another drawer
I found a tangle of old gloves
some knit caps and little big books
Only childhood treasures here—
no clues
no explanations
nowhere else to look for clues

The exodus was now well under way
a cluster of small ships
of black and white
Four of us climbed in
then came the beam
We began to rise
until all I could see was the light

As all signs of detail were erased
I waited for what would come next
something few would ever see
All I saw was the void
I couldn’t help wondering:
Was I dead?
Who would I wake up to be?

(24 April 2015)

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