It is very rare to wake up and continue a poem begun in a dream. Usually, it doesn’t make sense, or is shallow, like how extraordinary insights gained while high on a psychotropic drug may seem mundane in midst of ordinary life. Because it was a “sound sleep,” one that invited sound, the poem wasn’t written, but spoken. If it had been written, where would it be when the dreamer woke up? This is the same question the poet Samuel Coleridge asked, although he had a flower in mind. In both cases, the dream has tapped into a world in which magic is ordinary.
This morning The bird’s song Suddenly makes sense!