Forest of Dreams
When night unfolds her velvet skies,
we slip beneath our conscious streams.
Through silent woods where slumber lies
we walk into the land of dreams.
The trees are tall with silver bark,
Their branches flow with knowledge deep.
Each leaf a dream—a glowing spark,
That stirs the heart and guides our sleep.
We do not choose with thought or plan,
But by the soul’s unspoken plea
A lonely heart may drift to sand,
While joy may climb a laughing tree.
Some leaves bring flight on feathered wings,
While others open doors to fears.
The forest holds both light and sting,
A mirror of forgotten years.
Here lies the grove where midnight gleams,
its whispered paths of mystic seams.
A realm the wandering spirit deems
the way to the Forest of Dreams.
Yet when we wake and break the spell,
The leaves fall back with morning’s yen.
The forest waits, it knows us well
We all return to dream again
