Noumenal Dreams

I sleep on it. I wake up and think on it.  Consider it. Fodder it. Entertain it. Sustain it.  Dismiss it. Then I sleep on it. Dream on it. Inspired by it, I wake up. And I linger on it, tinker it, cuddle it, and nurture it ... my heart's full of it.

And the days drift, and I lose it. Then I regain it, pulled from a coil of a dream of it. Then I desire it. I repeat it. And I recycle it. and praise it. And I go on to shape it, imagine it, but never fully grasping it.

I owe it, a birth into existence; hence the persistence. I'll never grow it, and I know it, but ​ I put all my hopes on it ... until the day I die.