There is a moment
in a certain type of dream
when the veil of gauze
is lifted from your weary eyes
and you see with a clarity of vision
that is unlike anything in the raw, physical world.
For in such a dream
your sight becomes sharp and lucid,
as if made young again
by sipping the hypnotic vapours of somnambulant desire
and tasting the sweetness of release
that transports you to another land
where the magic of the rainbow
becomes the basic grammar of vision.
Oh, to see the fragrance of a flower,
to touch its delicate odour
and taste the texture of its hue!
Only in those dreams of rare transportation
can you shift the filter of recognition
so the world becomes fresh
and wondrous again.
Then and only then
may you re-enter
the real Garden of Eden
where apples are blue as pansies
and taste of phosphorescent blossoms
that glow like fireflies in the paleness of the moon.