The Forgotten Dream


In the early morning

a whisper comes to me

A love so pure and tender

beckoning to me

come hither

say the voices

crying out in dreams.



Abandon inhibitions

come to the angels' den

Where desire mixed with feeling

and the golden light of love

is sprinkled

as a perfume

throughout the holy air.



Where is this poignant perfume

that permeates the air?

Breathe deeply

the forgotten dream

it is everywhere.