…are better left unanswered

This place I have seen before, in a dream
a place where the silence restores my mind
a symphony of quietude, billowing with white light movements
how they glide softly without a sound
lighter than clouds uncoiling on a kind breeze
before they fall slowly, so slowly
rippling streams, crystal clear, clearer than the translucent sky
winding, wandering, a walk on a shimmering morning
a world of frost, of ice, of snow, of sheaves of glass
and endless mirrors, an illusory place beyond my reach
but you as I watch the pictures in my dream shatter
are consumed, as the world sheds its winter sleep
and only the pale, frosty moon prevails
were they ever real, or only shadows?
like the silent introspection, that holds me through the night
some questions are better left unanswered
just dreams that decorate slumber
diamonds scattered all around
revealed by the vanishing snow
© Ann Bagnall
2014