When I saw the above
image online, it immediately suggested to me the concept of an otherworld
dream-catcher, a silent preternatural being standing unseen beside us as we
sleep, ready to capture the dreams that we shall dream that night. So that is
what I wrote.
THE DREAM-CATCHER
The dream-catcher stands
unseen, still, beside our beds,
Powdered skin as pale as
bleached bone upon a beach,
A tippet of swan
feathers around his shoulders,
A dense ruff of white
owl plumes encircling his neck.
His long fingers snatch
at the dreams that flutter by,
Like ghostly moths in
the miasma of midnight.
Then he blows them
softly inside our sleeping minds,
Keeping watch over them,
and us, through the dark hours.
And when dawn comes,
when the bright sun wakes in splendour,
He is gone, leaving no
dream nor any trace here,
Gone away to ensnare new
dreams for new sleepers,
Until our dream lives
are over, our dream lives done.
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