In Praise Of Dreams

Dreamed c. 1992 by Wislawa Szymborska

In my dreams I paint like Vermeer van Delft. I speak fluent Greek and not just with the living. I drive a car that does what I want it to. I am gifted and write mighty epics. I hear voices as clearly as any venerable saint. My brilliance as a pianist would stun you. I fly the way we ought to, i.e., on my own. Falling from the roof, I tumble gently to the grass. I've got no problem breathing under water. I can't complain: I've been able to locate Atlantis. It's gratifying that I can always wake up before dying. As soon as war breaks out, I roll over on my other side. I'm a child of my age, but I don't have to be. A few years ago I saw two suns. And the night before last a penguin, clear as day.