Dream World

Lying asleep, a door to my right;
was forcibly, pushed wide open;
alertness, restored; ending night;
it’s longevity was only mere token.

Why was reality suddenly driven,
to invade my peaceful slumber?
Why did it permit, a jolt, be given;
fiercely, my sleep, to encumber?

The incident, it seems: only a dream;
proven by the absence of “where”,
the door’s location wasn’t the scene;
for there was only a window, there.

But, how could a dream be so real;
having all my senses involved?
I could clearly see, hear, and feel;
creating a mystery, to be solved.

How can I describe one scene as real;
while the other, I call a dream?
My mind tells what I see, hear, and feel;
could it be in on the scheme?

Is the length the determining factor;
establishing the truth of reality:
which is real; and which, the actor;
confirmed by one’s finality?

If such is true; then all of life is a dream;
and we’re meant, for a season, to engage;
no matter how much longer does it seem;
we, ultimately, all leave life’s stage.