Thursday, February 17, 2011

Interpretation: Living In Two Worlds, Sleeping In One

There are two windows in my bedroom,
one I look out every day,
one I look out every night.
I see my neighbor out the one,
out the other, a magic sight.

This started from a prompt about what you see looking out your bedroom window, either a photograph, a drawing, or a written piece. Naturally, I chose the written style, as it is my primary artistic style. What I see out of my window, the one that actually sits in the wall and that light shines through in the morning (it faces east) and moonlight shines through at night, it my neighbor's back yard. It's not a particularly nice backyard either.

However, since I am a good dreamer, and I have already created pieces talking about how I'm looking through a window into a new world as a form of escape (found in "Welcome Home" and "The Window"), I drew on that to create a window here. The window is a portal to my subconscious, and to climb through it, all I have to do is close my eyes here.

The window in the day
is just a window in my wall.
But the window in the night
is a window to my soul.

Every dream I've dreamt,
every memory that I've held,
every fear I've broken,
every demon that I've felled,

every time I close my eyes
and see the other place I live:
I open the pane,
leap through it again,
spread my arms, soar and fly.

No need to shake me from my bed,
I'm already moving, ready again.
No need to repeat what you just said:
I've been looking forward to this all day.

Open the window
Open the sky
Open your arms
and let us fly

Open your mind,
Open your soul,
Open the cage,
and soon be whole.

Open the pool
dive in to your dreams,
what I see from this window
is not what it seems.

There is nothing that I cannot do here, fly, swim, run without concern of exhaustion, lie without joint pain (as I suffer from in this world), create endlessly and with no boundaries.

We journeyed so far tonight,
but now I must return.
This body needs to sleep,
it's my other world's turn.

Unfortunately, I can only play in that world for so long before I must return to this one. Over there, there is a house, just like the one I live in when I'm awake, but the only room inside is my bedroom, and the only way in is my bedroom's window.

The only way out is to lie down in my bed, close my eyes, and reach again through that window inside my head, and step through into the waking world once more. This leads to a question the I have addressed in Dream Classier, which is: how do we tell which is the real world? Which one do we really sleep in, and dream of the other?

Why can't both places be just as real? Two bodies, one soul, and the body without the soul must sleep still and sleep.

Open my eyes, climb out of bed,
my feet touch the ground.
I may not fly, 'til tomorrow night,
for now, I'm gravity-bound.

This poem is available on my deviantArt account here.

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