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Who lost the key to the land of dreams
and trapped mankind in roiled seas
or worse
     landlocked with a wall his only view?

Circumstance
     was it you?
Perhaps you offered too much truth
and locked our dreams out of reach or
 
Destiny,
     could it be thee with some dark plan
to harness man and keep control with your scheme, 
forbidding him through the gate to dreams?
 
Choice
     it was not you, of this I’m sure, for 
if you had your say, man would spend the livelong day 
dreaming, languishing in that paradise where all escape 
the fishhook hands of care and woe
     and brute demands. 
 
No, it is not Choice nor Propriety;  
I am convinced of this. Dreams are born
in ego’s bliss. If we search ceaselessly 
inside the id, we will find the key. It’s there, 
I think with many a sigh, 
     that our dreams too often go to die.


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