Poem to a lover lost but around
I have called for you in the inch space of my heart
Allowing each echo to resonate and call endlessly back into each fold
I have called for you in the pin precise dark drifts
pushing further into and beyond all scope
I have called for you in wild surges of electric ecstatic submissions
as i inhaled the world
Your answers were shy, subtle shimmers yet I heard them
and I sighed knowing you had listened
There is much to be said about the dreamer and the doodlers of the world. Usually what is said sounds a little like this. 'Oh she has her head in the clouds' 'Can't you just try and be normal?' 'Look its all very well and good to have dreams till you realise that dreams are not real' and such like.
I am a starer into space kinda girl and I dream of the most ridiculous things just because I like messing with my own reality and imagining new and usually improbable situations.
No one yet has walked up to me in the street and said 'We have found you, Ilona you are part of a secret society known only to a select few, You have the mark of Masthuseala on your head. It is the mark of the star child. You must come with us as the dark forces of accountable and responsiblity reality are closing in and we need you and your mind to take us to the stars!'
This hasn't happened yet but you never know....
One of my favorite times to doodle and dream is when I am home and comfy with my beautiful guitar James and we just start talking.
He is older than me and as such has stories that are rich, wild and deep and I sing songs of nonsense that he endures with little complaint.
This is my dreaming. My musical ship upon the sea of stories that usually leads me to lands I have never been to, let alone imagined.
So I say to the dream weary, find a quiet spot close your eyes and say hello to your little friends that are dancing in your mind.
Frollic with them and then get up finish your tax return and have a nice glass of pinot and sing a toast to the dreamers.