Dreaming Awake

I have a special poem to share with you all today. First, here’s some background…

While attending the Life Without Instructions Conference on Staten Island this past September, I attended a writing workshop facilitated by Miro Siegel. He briefly explained the different stages of The Hero’s Journey, outlined by Joseph Campbell. Using that pattern as a guide, he set us to the task of writing. I decided to begin a poem.

Three weeks later, I found myself drawn to continue working on it. This turned into an intense, three-day journey. I was completely entranced. The symbolism, integration, and meaning that emerged, is reminiscent of what often comes through subconscious dreaming.

I’ve offered my poem below, and as always, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Do you ever feel a compelling urge to write a poem?

Dreaming Awake

An intuitive impulse
Whispers beyond.
A curious excitement, lingers on.
Attempting to stay, but pushing away;
I’m swept by a wave
Into fluid expanse;
Spurred by intention
Beckoning on;
Disappearing in deepness
Afraid to breathe;
Immersed in strange air,
Changed eyes see.

Swirling currents, spiral down;
Textures and patterns,
Teem with life.
I’m pulled through a vortex
To an obscure land.
Sucked dry of hope
I’m almost gone.
Yet left remaining,
Wondering,
…I must go on.

Cloaked in electric blackness,
My heavy steps commence a leaden pace.
Anonymity prevails;
An imperceptible future
Lies in wait.
Through stagnant despair,
Illusion fades;
Reality suffers in dire straits.

Shrouded in mystery,
A sudden spark
Ignites old steps,
On a forgotten way.
Trusting the glow,
Treading the path,
The hour becomes late.
An urgent summons,
Drives my fate.

The flame expands onto a world
Hitherto concealed from view.
In plain sight,
Yet camouflaged.
Awaiting me,
With long lost faith.
My fading heartbeat
Shelters here.
We have our very life at stake.

Drawing near,
A horrid sight accosts my weary eyes.
Existing, but just barely,
In disintegrated state,
Broken, cracked, and shattered,
Perhaps I am too late.
A realm of nothingness
May soon possess,
This God forsaken place.

A feeble sound reverberates,
Shadowy and soft.
An echo from my ailing heart.
Tenaciously it calls;
This subtle strain
Of painful tones,
So desperate to be known.

I’m seized upon immediately,
Surprised by an attack.
I fight and kick and claw my way,
Amid the sudden fray.
These fractured, starving, displaced parts,
All the pieces of my heart,
Consume me in determined gulps,
As if in angst to say,
Surrender, or we die today.

Rising from a hellish sleep,
I find my world transfigured;
Swallowed up inside my heart,
Back home
I’ve been delivered.
All trace of division
Now erased,
I rest in deep release.

Tucked up snug in this restorative space,
I soon find myself aghast;
There are no walls, no doors, no rooms;
This is not a hiding place.
I’m utterly exposed,
For all the big, wide world to see;
I might as well be me,
…Fly free.

Lifting off,
My soul takes wing.
How high I soar
Through clouds and stars,
…On a singular quest for more.
But this tempting air wears thin, you see
Lofty as it is,
And lack of substance
Leaves me dry,
Heady though it seems.

A downward draft
Brings sweet relief,
A reckoning within.
Cascading low
Toward the earth,
Nourishing and deep,
The fertile ground
Delightfully,
Enroots my eager feet.

Upon finding my repose,
Between the earth and sky,
A muse appears as in a dream,
Born from my courageous heart,
Her wish is to inspire seekers
Journeying in the dark.

We partner up
And find our groove,
Exploring as we grow;
The way of love,
A tale unspun,
Keeps winding as it rolls.

Each seeking soul
Uniquely carves
A passage of their own.
Soloing in tandem,
Sharing as they go.
Authentic and expressive,
Relaxing in the vibe,
Becoming one with life and love,
Compassion comes alive.

Playing for love
In this miraculous dream;
Our evolving artistry
Creates the scenes.
To embrace and savor being
Is what living really means.

-Jennifer Pearce