Nocturnal Admission

Everything undulates slightly
in the twilit hours, rippling gently
as a mirage.

What seems solid during daylight
becomes other by nightfall,
as things left unresolved
return to haunt the living.

Thus we dwell upon passing thoughts,
full-blown as stories once told
to the very young when we remembered
that which we did not yet know.

Secrets carried like diamonds
on our back spilling forth, then landing
like rocks from the sack.

 

5 comments on “Nocturnal Admission”

  1. A lovely evocation of our nightly states of reverie Bela. I must say that my own are about as nonsensical as what goes on thought-wise during unguided moments of the day – I can barely tell the difference! *pinches arm to see what happens* H ❀

    • Heh-heh, Hariod – your nocturnal reveries sound fun πŸ˜‰ Was it always so, for you? I believe you are older than I (?) and perhaps it has something to do with different life stages. All the best, my friend, and thanks, as ever, for your kind comments. ❀

      • Yes I am a fair bit older, and just turned 61, Bela. I would guess that 98% of my dreams are no more than fragments of daytime preoccupations stitched together as best the brain can (in a vacuum of other sensory input) into a narrative of sorts, the whole being nonsensical. Then again, very rarely, a dream narrative makes entire sense in retrospect and is profound, with the remainder of the 2% being more emotively-based evocations of desire, affection, loss, estrangement (etc.) which themselves are also signifiers of waking situations or reflections. Perhaps you feel dreams are more revelatory on the whole? H ❀

  2. Thanks for the clarification. You are 61, then? My contemporary, not my elder! I’m 62. So you’re just a pup πŸ˜‰ Perhaps it’s because you always sound so erudite and wise that I assumed you were a decade or two ahead of me. Maybe just an old soul, eh? πŸ˜‰
    I understand the mind’s proclivity to dart about in fragmented snatches of thought, yes. Mine is often reviewing a personal encounter, for I constantly strive to say what I mean in a way the other/s can understand. MUCH easier in writing, for me. I often get flustered on my feet, and have learned the value of circumspection instead of feeling as though I’m on the spot and have to provide an answer/solution immediately. (Sometimes I’ll just say, ‘I’ve got to think about that for awhile.”) Communication is so interesting!
    As for dreams, I can categorize mine into two sorts: the random bits of psychic debris needing resolution deep within, or the dreams where I am living, for wont of a better term, an alternate reality – and I am very much aware in them; present and able to make choices (extricate myself from danger; alter the content of the story). I once had a Jungian psych professor who told me I must be a control freak who even had to control the outcome of my dreams! And where control might have been a theme in my very early adulthood (due to a variety of circumstances), I was not then and am not now. It’s more like I’m in a bardo and my destiny is intertwined with the direction of my intent. It feels very holy and right and often fully unpredictable! Which I enjoy. And then there is a third quality more than type, which are the flying dreams. I guess one could call those observational. Cheers!

  3. So much hidden in the darkness yet from time to time glimpsed


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