Dream and Shadow

I wander worlds no waking eyes have seen,

Bright palaces of glass, a silver sea;

Each star is close, each meadow lies serene,

A kingdom born of thought’s deep sorcery.

Yet when I wake, the towers fade to dust,

Their crystal arches vanish with the dawn;

What once was holy gold grows gray with rust,

The dream dissolves, its shining fabric gone.

Still, darkness births the visions I adore,

For shadows spark the lanterns of the mind;

Imagination, rich with less and more,

Gives loss and wonder twined in threads aligned.

Thus fantasy holds light in stable hands:

A fleeting fire no waking hour commands.