|Kasim:||(spacily) When is a dream actually a dream?|
|Nadia:||What sort of question is that?|
|Kasim:||Well, midway through most dreams, we don't even realize we're dreaming . . .|
|Kasim:||A dream becomes a dream only when it is over.|
|Nadia:||Shouldn't you discuss this with Ludwig Binswanger?|
|Kasim:||But isn't he dead!|
|Wan-Sze:||No. Nothing ever dies - and nothing is ever created.|
|Kasim:||(exasperated) Dream on!|
Do plants dream?
I often wonder about this . . .
When we close our eyes
do they send out tendrils?
What do their roots clasp
when the sun fades?
Can plants converse with planets
or whisper to other moons?
No answers come:
In this dim light
on this dark night
my breath deepens
as insects chirp
the wind calms
. . .