Surreal

What is that state, we call despair;
an isle of complete desolation;
nothing surrounds, but water and air;
leading only to consolation.

Later, while sleeping, scenes changed;
a substitute life, takes the dream’s place;
all of reality is subtly rearranged;
and destiny gives it all a new face.

Birds still fly; and flowers still bloom;
but much of reality is no longer the same;
destiny has drawn the air from the room;
and now, my life has destiny’s claim.

My world has become a great picture;
sliding into past and becoming surreal;
I am no longer a character, or fixture;
thoughts blurred; sight is now feel.

Slowly I’m drawn to eternal confusion;
to a point where creation had begun;
souls coming into thought’s inclusion;
as all of eternity morphs into One

There is something surreal about reality;
two of my brothers have gone on ahead;
I’m feeling an internal sense of finality;
but life must go on, without them, instead.

So many, I love, have exited life’s stage;
but it seems I have more to learn;
this life goes on; keeps turning a page;
with the next life awaiting its turn.

Monty 7/26/21.