There is a place we go in between the land of awake and the land of dreams,
Another realm in the midst, in our subconscious serene.
A place where we organize our thoughts in such a way,
When in our waking state, we cannot remember to convey.
In this realm, words become our best inventions,
In our tired, resting moments, with no vices of apprehension.
If we dare stir out of this middle space, when words with ease appear with grace,
We risk the fate of losing our plot, our grand ideas become for not.
©D.G. Kaye October 2013