New Year Blues

A blue moon bade her
and
the year past
good night

As slumber images
beckon dreams
to the fringes and verges
of other consciousness
and multi-realms of
midnight possibiities

Dangling from her shadowlight
she
encounters the blue-speckle textured
archetypal tri-door-a box

Gentle, sure, steady fingers
remove each intricate latch
til three portal angles,
(each inviting her in)
clandestine teal - mesmerous blue - blue
three door charms
finally open, converge

and from its cage nest
doth emerge

mythic unfettered feathers
gracious wing expanse,
cerulean satin,
cobalt woven azure
blends of majestic royal
infinite layers of iridescent indigo
gleaming and colliding
cross its massive wing presence,
emanating truth and beauty and love

gliding, soaring, merging with the moon
as one,
showing her (if she'll only see)
lapis promises
of magical flights,
waiting here in the new,
amidst the blue.

~Robin O'Neal, 1/2/09

Dream for a Soldier

This poem was inspired by a dream I had last year. I didn't understand it at the time, why I dreamed this scene, this place, this time, this soldier.

Dream for a Soldier

Invisible, I sit, waiting - waiting to know
Invulnerable, he sits, knowing - knowing to wait

In a dream, he's next to me
We share a breath there by the sea

Silenced knowers board the train
I am his grief, I hold his pain

With unshed tears, he turns his gaze
From his loss, to their praise

Now he's brave and proud and true
Waging war in him for you

I, the dreamer, dream him home
He, the soldier, sits alone

Light a candle, say a prayer
Wish for peace in his heart there

Here I sit writing - writing for William
There, he stands, fighting - fighting for me.

~Robin O'Neal, 3/2009


*I sent this poem along with a letter of explanation to a soldier named William who is serving with my friend's brother in Afghanistan. Their unit lost four men in a Hummer explosion in March. As I began to ponder the reality of these soldiers' daily lives, my dream came back to me, suggesting that perhaps I need to step far outside of my own idyllic suburban "problems" and recognize the truth that is the truth of a world at war.

Once Upon the Middle of the Night

Once upon the middle of the night
A dreamer's mystical dream takes flight

She happily journeys through space and times
To a magical schoolhouse where life rhymes

A kind dream wizard leads enLightning games
Robert Moss, the mortal name he claims

Children become warrior, goddess and bear
Spellbound, they enter a multiverse shared

In color, they draw, play-act, and dream
Experiencing all cultures, one unified team

In light of day, she wrote it all down,
Thrilled the scene was her own hometown

She shared with dreampals, near and far
When Robert read it, he gave it a star

"The story flows true," is what he said
"Except where there's 'Robert,' try 'Robin' instead"

The dreamer awoke - to the power of dreams
Knowing her vision might be as it seems

Honoring a map that's way off the chart
She plots a course straight from the heart

A dreamer is dreaming inside everyone
The truths they tell us yet barely begun.

~Robin O'Neal, 10/08

Learn more about Robert Moss, his books and courses at www.mossdreams.com.
* Join the online dream forum, sponsored by Spirituality & Health magazine.
*Be the first to register for the Cincinnati workshop, "The Healing Power of Story," and get Robert Moss' recently released hardcover book, The Secret History of Dreaming, FREE.

To register, email roknrobinwrites@mac.com or call me, Robin, at 513-659-3356.
More info can be found here.

You Were There

"You Were There"

You were there last night, my silly artist dream pal
Painting my wall bold and breathtaking
Gossiping 'bout real estate and how to raise a girl

You were there last night, yes you,
Though I finished with you finally,
Gratefully surrendering after such belabored strife

Still, there you were
Unexpected, yet welcome
Approving in gesture and tone,
Minus the trollish undertow,
A virtual signature of your features, pure, complex-free

My raw ache faded further
in your wink and chuckle,
that cool costello flare lingered easily throughout today.

You were there last night, my friend
Effortlessly floating across my unconscious
Easing old grievance
as we gazed upon sparkling skylights
revealing only clear blue sky
with scattered cumulus clouds of hope

~Robin, 2004