Real Dreams


We call it this
We call it that
Until we are done
With names

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on October 29, 2018, in Poetry, Quatrain and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Ah! It’s like the nameless flower. So much easier to become one with its beauty when we aren’t wondering “what it is”. Another gem, Ben.
    (And I was just talking about dreams….)

    Liked by 1 person

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