Do Our Dreams Visit or Reside?

The old dream gave way to the new dream,
because the new dream grew up and grew out,
and waited at the window black against the sky,
like branches of an oak.
 
The old dream didn’t end or crumble into wrinkles.
It simply slipped into darkness and found another home.

To read the rest of this wonderful poem called “The Visitor”
by Tara Mohr about Dreams and what we think we
absolutely have to have
gently click here