A Vague Dream

How strange is the chase...
for dreams that don't have a visage
Nor a definition

A vague hill...fluid, unbounded
A valley of unidentified flowers..
yellow and white
a soul, soul-mate-like
unnamed, without a face
but well-defined fingers
that slide behind my ears
to tuck a stray strand of hair..
And time..is frozen..
ice-cold, but its pleasantly warm
under the skin of my cheeks

I see no colour
hear no sound
as I try to identify
You....
But all I am left with
is a dream
and its characteristic uncertainty
that tests my patience
bit by bit, crystal by crystal
through a narrow decade-glass
of Not Knowing

The mist above the hills
grows denser
and you walk away
leaving behind the illusion
of a smile, and the reality
of longing...