Looking back as waking took to mind,
  the dreamer,
                their words written,
                                                  ‘we are here’;
  suddenly found morning thrust fully.
Friends, he thought,
          what they might say would be forgotten.
   The words,
      but not their saying them.
                                 Clever to have written.

The Past is yet present and
                           the ‘morrow may be remembered,
   but life is for the living of and so it is;
                     our eyes may see the light.
It may be in our dreams,
        day or night that the mind might see.

   A uni-verse of songs in which
            consciousness the loveliest sung.
So we might listen or hear,
 we might feel or somehow know.
   We might be to busy,
           our life to encapsulated;
                   indeed might, Is.

Your words were heard,
    meaning felt when I saw your glance
       he said,
“The verse is ever sung, every one,
                                             ever shared.

GW Brooks  11-24-19