Sunday, February 17, 2008

In sleep

In sleep mysteries rise,
mysteries rise in sleep.

Towards morning especially
mysteries rise in sleep.

Air lifts and sudden dives
rise in the morning in sleep.

Corridors and blocked passages,
dimly lit dives rise in sleep.

A forgotten name and a rose
this morning rose in sleep.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2008)

Written in response to Sunday Scribblings' prompt

#98 - Sleep (and/or Teeth)

Sorry about the missing teeth. None have risen in sleep lately.

The form I'm using here is loosely based on the ghazal.


myrtle beached whale said...

I had to look up Ghazal because I am a moron. Then I read your poem again and I understand. I learn so much from blogs. Thanks.

tumblewords said...

Oh, I love this poem, just love it! It sings and sighs with mysticality...
Please don't be sorry about missing teeth. LOL

gautami tripathy said...

As an Indian, I do recognise the form. It suits your poem.

snooze time, baby!

Beautiful Witch said...

This poem is almost whimsical, but has too much depth for "whimsical" to be the right word. Very evocative. Lovely.