Where Do Dreams Go When They Don’t Wake With You?

I swam over rocks
where sea stars anchored
and anemones called softly
past small damsels so intensely blue
even the sea envied;
by white-banded angels,
schools of goatfish
learning to read the waves
to the cave of forgotten dreams
- Halt! Who Goes? –
Sergeant majors on guard cried –
- I search for missing pieces –
- Do you know the password? –
“Go Fish?” “Neptune?”
“Currents of forgetfulness?” –
they sent me on my way
and then:
inside a giant open shell
I found the ones
with faces you didn’t recognize:
doors that opened into undiscovered rooms;
strangers who spoke
a language you couldn’t understand
- Wait! Come back! Come back! – they cried
as I scurried from the shell
before its lips slammed shut.