In Dreams

When night descends and stillness grows,

our soul begins where no one knows.

Beyond the reach of thought or sound,

In dreams, our truest selves are found.

No mask remains, no walls defend,

our soul comes forth, then edges bend.

In shifting scenes both strange and clear,

It whispers what we will not hear.

A burning tree, a hallway long,

A voice that sings a wordless song;

These are the maps the spirit draws,

the riddles shaped by deeper laws.

What waking life may hide away,

the dreaming world may still convey.

Desires lost, or wounds unhealed;

in sleep, our soul have them revealed.

It speaks in symbols, moves through light,

it walks the shadows of the night.

Not bound by time, nor tied by name,

it rises whole, yet not the same.

So dream not just to rest or flee,

But sail the dark, and we will see;

In that silence, soft and kind, we may feel our soul close behind.