In Dreams: 890

In dreams, I'm old at sat in my study. With many books wide open on my desk. O they all glow with a curious light! The clock has stopped ticking. There is only The soft, eternal moment unfolding. The walls are covered in esoteric Symbols that seem to brim with life's essence. Because it is winter, I'm recalling Summer's splendour and youth's verdant green days. Although it is winter, I am warmed by A fire that seems to emanate from deep Within me. I gaze out at the world that lies Beyond my window. I see snowfall and Starlight intermingle in novel ways. I try to capture their profundity In patterned, poetic lines. I attempt To make them rhyme, but there is something strange And elusive that I cannot quite grasp; Something slightly off key and out of season: Something that wants to remain a mystery.