A poem about seeking lucidity within a dream:
Consciousness Beckons (2006)
There’s this dream out there
hard for me to think of it as mine
although I am in it
somewhere near the end
jumping up and down
wearing a bathrobe, on a hotel bed
and I show up in the middle too
a caricature of myself at seventeen
hopeful and determined, broad-shouldered
wearing a clean white collard shirt
There is a woman holding a fish,
it may be a large salmon
she explains to a group of interested citizens
why it is important that we treat our environment with respect
citing examples of misuse
that relate back to the fish
and as this woman’s 15 minutes fade away
I realize that this dream is on film
These events all contained on a seven minute reel
and I am watching it now
in a small independent theatre
called The Princess
If you join me you will hear them too
inviting voices from the hall
there is no point in paying full admission now
a superabundance of experiences are reserved for you
calling you out so that they may be lived,
summoning you all out of this perfect cinema
just as the finale of the picture show is queued
When consciousness beckons
there is little one can do
lest peradventure you favor meditations that border on religious
or medicines that border on the black arts
suppose for an instant
that we are always animate and lucid
what worlds are just today becoming unveiled