A dream made of love

The more I remember who I am, the more I am reminded that I am not who I think I am.

Feelings come and go, my mind is fast not to let go.

I want to think I am separate from what I am, but I know that I am and I am not.

No wonder why we want to be, or act as if we were.

It feels good to feel, as if it was real.

As if this was real.

But then, I remember, and I let go.

And I am one with all.

Everything is a flow, constant flow of synchronicity in bliss.

Until I go out of orbit and into control, the control of that that I want to be, or think I should be.

But then, I remember again, that I am nothing of what it seems, and breathe.

The tide goes up and down like a merry go round.

And I forget not to think, and there it goes again.

How jealous she can be.

As soon as she has a chance, she jumps in, bringing me down.

Until my heart alights and love comes back to awaken me into this state.

And remind me this is a dream and I am wide awake.

I am love and so are my dreams, even when I am awake.