Dreamers navigate their way

through shadows deep and dark,

searching for the light of morning,

as they march across dry deserts

or over towering mountain peaks

crowned by heavenly angels

whose glittery gossamer wings

flutter fleetingly in a gentle breeze

brushing the sleeper’s cheek

as lightly as mother once did,

helping to climb the ladder

of delicious dreams toward

a blushing sky, streaked

orange, pink, and baby blue

as the sun, ever so slowly,

rises to greet the morning

shirking off terrifying nightmares

of hideous monsters, demons, sprites

or relishing romantic love stories

sung by twinkling firelight

in a lover’s embrace,

broken most unwillingly only

to greet the dawn of day,

without thinking, without choosing,

unable to stop the inevitable

awakening as all must for

dreamers’ dreams must end.