Reality and the Dream

We dream of reality,

And live in a dream.

In between the two,

Are we present,

But notice not where we stand,

Nor what we stand upon.

In fear we look anywhere

But down, in case air

Is all that supports us,

And as if by looking

We would fall.

Yet while our body stands,

And feels solid ground,

Our imagination soars

Weightless and free,

Roaming past and future,

While the present

Lies far below,

Along with our body;

Unassuming, and patiently

Awaiting our return.

Then we open our eyes,

And see that in our

Absence we have not moved

As if time had stood still.

We do not remember

Having breathed,

Nor having been alive;

The feel of the season,

Nor the faces that surround us.

Yet we do not fall;

And it is familiar;

And we are in good company;

And we are ok.

How strange it feels

To inhale, and exhale,

Inhale, and exhale,

Inhale, and exhale.

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