Things will seem as they seem. I’ve control of this dream.
There is not a thing in it that I cannot know.
Were I blind, I would know that the dream still exists.
All the space, time and substance within it consists
Of my own psychic energy pumped for a show.
Life’s a spiritual quest through a physical stream.
If I raise my left arm, I think others can too
But they’re not mine to witness. I imagine it.
And if I can imagine that my world is real
Everyone in my world has something to reveal
Though that thing be forthcoming, it’s oft’ not a fit
To what I may have conjured well in spite of you.
Everyone is in my dream as I am in theirs.
Every sense of reality can be compared
To the fine feathered flock who are as one in flight.
Every fowl of humanity weathers this night.
As this sleep waxes lucid with consciousness dared
This Great Dream becomes hopeful as everyone shares.