poem: The Dreamstreet Man by Dandelion de la Rue

A painted world
surreal empty streets
Nighttime streets with
hazy glowing light
above the energy
of this dimension
just enough
to know it floats
in midnight
dreamtime magic.

When I walk there
in my dream
I walk alone
the soundless footsteps
of my astral feet
musing me
by their absence.

The doors along the street
all closed
but they can open
I know
if I knock.
Dare I knock?
And once inside
Can I get out again?

What lies
beyond those doors?
Bygone mysteries?
Ghosts from my
years waiting
to trouble me
with unfinished business?
Is there a room
where all my madnesses
lie exposed
in a museum?

Should I throw them
from the painted window
and dance alone
in a vacuum?

If I were Alice
in a silent Wonderland
then you might be
the Grin Without a Cat.

But here on this daylit
street of busy
clowns and horses
You are the Cat
Without a Grin.
I think you have a foot
in both dimensions,
Dreamstreet Man.