“out of the quiet dream of blackness”

Out of the blackness of dreams
There are wild murmurous thoughts
Whirling out of the deepest recesses
Shattering the stillness and silence of sleep

Here the orb of the moon may be brilliant gold
Or instead it may be blue as still waters
Here creatures may speak with the tongues of man
Or man may bleat and bark and chirp
As nonsensical as the creatures they mimic
Here doors may not open inward, or outward
But instead may fold into themselves
Or shatter into bits at the rap of knuckles

In the quiet blackness of dreams
All sense becomes nonsense
In the black quietness of dreams
All chaos becomes reality
In the black dream of quietness
We become our heart’s longing
In the quiet dream of blackness
We are still

Written in response to today’s challenge at With Real Toads, where we are given a list of words that seem disparate and asked to use at least five. I used eight.

12 thoughts on ““out of the quiet dream of blackness”

  1. Wonderful title and great play with your theme, weaving the shuttle back and through. Poetry, dreams, moonlight — they’re all of the same otherworld. Thanks for this.

  2. My favorite lines … “here doors may not open inward, or outward .. but instead may fold into themselves” ~~~ your poem is marvelously descriptive … I enjoyed it.

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