When dreams whisper. . .

This imaginative homeowner made good use of some unused space in​ his Kennebunk, Maine attic. Creating a library/study using old furniture, simple bookshelves, oriental rugs and other items to make this space a cozy and interesting place to read or just hang out and relax. Sometimes it doesn't take much, just a little creativity.

In the ancient whispers of
our dreams, our soul resides.
Lingering, ready to step forth
and penetrate our deepest
slumber. I dreamed of this
room time and night again.
The wall, a colourful rainbow
of spines, old and new, new
and old. Torn corners, bent
pages, faded covers, creased
titles, dust particles danced
in the flames flicker. The desk,
an array of chaotic energy,
pens, pencils, oh yes, the pencils,
and paper, sheets and scraps
notebooks and journals.
I dreamed of this room time
and night again. The attic
that time forgot, secret nooks
cubby holes, Narnia doors.
A wise man once told me
take heed, the soul resides
within our dream. All I could do
was jump, turn away, create
a new path, hope on a blind
man’s sight…

and so it is I find myself here,
now, with ink stained fingers,
a collection of pencils and
scraps of paper covered in
beauty, and so it is I changed
my path, turned toward this light,
I no longer dream of this room,
In again, time or night, for I
heard when my soul whispered
turn now into the light.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on pinterest

One thought on “When dreams whisper. . .

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