In My Dreams

In my dreams I ride Morgans; drive Mustangs;
sail tall ships across starlit seas.
I hang out on mountains
with dragons, near fountains,
roasting old chestnuts
and shooting the breeze
with old gods like Ra;
and Poseidon, and Quetzalcoatl and Thor,
and then catch a thermal to glide on
and drift back, downwind, to the shore.

In my dreams, I fly Hawks and race Jaguars,
find rare pearls in dimly lit bars
and hang out in the surf
With dolphins, on their turf,
chasing red herrings and singing to stars,
under a full moon. To Orion
Andromeda, Draco, Ursa Minor and Canis Major;
co-ordinates you can rely on
and wonder: what else are stars for?

In my dreams there are
slipstreams through whirlpools
and fabulous bridges that span
galaxies, spinning on axes,
in dimensions beyond
the ambition of man,
where everything's stark.
Then I saddle the pinto
and ride on, into the dark,
like many souls can
who have gone before.
Who rode the first wave
till it broke
down on the way back
to this hard rock
and got washed up again,
even more.