Dreams

Dreams

If I were a grasshopper,
I'd stroke your ears by the light of night
and sing fields of marshmallows
while the ocean waved.
The rainbow platypus glides along the snow,
piping up in dreams, withleaves of sun washing over clouds.
Cherry trees dance under the stars,
winking and whispering while
the grey-white fox, knowing no bounds,
flies past the shadows of thunder.
But we don't notice, like a fantastical scene
rolling by from the windows of a train.
Unnoticed, because something much more ethereal,
and alive, and sparklier, holds our attention.
Love.
Even if it's just a dream, we know,
outside of its dominating realm,
it is real.