Shades of Dream

I lay listening
a restless silence is stirred
by sounds echoing from a distance
and the wind that gently disturbs
instilling calm.

It plays somewhere
between the rustling of trees and the warm winter sun
who's light reflects through ripples of time and leaves
some distilled memory
of some sleeping god
dreaming of a place now lost.

Am I then part of this god's mind's eye
where reality shifts and tangible reshapes
as he tosses and turns
do I notice.

At the mercy of divine unconscious I'll feel no death
should he stir
I will be blinked out of existence
like sleep from an eye
cradled by the abyss
as the last whispers of a dream
fade on wake.