The dream shatters
with the noise of morning,
so delicate is the night.
Morning rises, gray and wet,
intensifying the disconnect.
Real seems less concrete,
like it could simply be a message
from another real, onto my own.
And, what I see with my eyes
and touch with my hands
could shatter.
Just like the dream.
I hold the counter for balance,
then pick up an apple.
I can feel the resistence of the skin
as I bite and hear the solid crunch.
Juice trickles down my chin
and I let it roll down,
tucking under my chin.
My vision clears as two worlds
rejoin as one.
Real.
Again.
*In response to Sunday Scribblings #261
Wonderful..image after image drawing us in..it's always such a disappointment leaving the land of dreams isn't it..simply delicious..with a slight hint of the sour skin found on a 'Granny Smith' apple..Lorry loads of praise!Jae :)
ReplyDeletelovely words..
ReplyDeleteNice poem. Interesting that you chose an apple to connect... biblical reference?
ReplyDeleteMeryl
http://departingthetext.blogspot.com
Thanks Jae, Jingle and Meryl. No intentional biblical reference. I just like apples :)
ReplyDelete"A message from another real, onto my own," great turn of phrase. Glad to have found you on Sunday Scribblings! This is a thoughtful, well-written poem.
ReplyDeleteHere's my Sun Scrib:
http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/04/03/message-in-a-bottle-napowrimo-3/
Peace, and glad to have "met" you,
Amy Barlow Liberatore
Thanks Amy. What's funny is I think I found Sunday Scribblings via Sharp Little Pencil.
ReplyDeletei like the idea of an apple being the captapult for an everyday reality...
ReplyDeleteThanks pieceofpie. I am bit fan of apples both the real ones and the computing ones.
ReplyDeletethanks for following Jerry.. Jae
ReplyDelete