Tell Me Your Dreams

Talk to me, I need to hear your prosody.
Talk to me, I want to hear your fantasies.
Carry me through your most treasured dreams
with your insight and laughs of ecstatic glee.
As we walk on rainbows
that weave through each dream
I will shelter your back
from that burning sunbeam
with a broad embrace
and cool hands that caress your face
while we pace as twins in this alternate place.
Tell me your dreams to mask your pain.
Tell me now before we get drenched with rain.
I will be your rock, your dynamo and weir.
I will remain your champion sightseer.
We still have time to enjoy this space
of goals, joyful souls and fantasy desires.
I will listen receptively
as you let it out and talk to me
through pulsing pangs of empathy
that boomerang back in our prosody.
I will proceed to tear
while I smile and admire
as your rain clouds begin to form and perspire.
Your brume is getting dark,
moist and heavy.
Soon you will give in
to life's cold levy.
I will still be there at the very end
when the rainbow fades and death starts to bend
your reality of impermanence
in this world of fading decadence.
But don't despair, there is still hope in the air.
I will meet you again when conditions are met;
the right balance of sun
and plump dreams that are properly wet.
How will we know when the time is right?
When birds take flight and we signal with kites.
Take me away with your visions of light.
Take me away after you heal from your dark night.