top of page
Writer's pictureAmy Frank

The Dream Keeper

Updated: May 25, 2020

Originally Written: July 31, 2008 - Age 22

Slightly Edited: January 30, 2020 - Age 33

Art: May 25, 2020 - Age 34


“I am the dream keeper,” she said to me,

“Those who come do not leave.

They follow the firefly’s breath

as it weaves

into the dream-catchers net.

They dance on the flames

as they’re scurried away

into man’s deepest subconscious desires.”


“I am the dream keeper,” She bowed her head to say.

“But seek not in me your sanctuary

as the keepers hold nightmares and they hold dreams.

Visit me on nights when the air and frost bite,

and I will feed your dwindling fire

I will clothe you in truth,

the freedom of proof, —

All you whom dwell in desire.”


“Beware of the dream keeper,” she sighed

with regret and a tinge of despair.

Let her rest by a window facing the East

so she may always watch the sun climb.

Let her flitter away, in the day she will play,

but with you in the night her head lies.

Retire her at dawn when in her the dreams spawn

and let her stitch the thick dream-catchers web.

Let her tend the young stars,

peeking out over her scars,

let her wash away the day’s

light and pain.


“Beware of the dream keeper,” she whispers,

“for solitude is her price.” And while time ages all,

the dreams in her will not stop,

so forever she guards them in ice.


“Beware of the dream keeper,” she sadly shakes her head.

Beware her rose crown,

though hidden holds thorns,

that forever dig into her mind.


“Beware of her beautiful caverns,” she hums,

"where all time and imagination breed life.”

Beware of the songs she will murmur on days long,

to call out to you

to return in the night.


“I am the dream keeper,” I breathe.

“Engraved in stone forever I stand.

Awaiting the minds of all humankind,

a beacon to show them them their path.”


“I am the dream keeper,” I sigh,

“In fields of flowers forever I stay

In the clouds in the sky,

in a twinkling eye,

in your minds, my caverns, I lay.”

Recent Posts

See All

Pronoia (Poetry)

Pronoia: The Belief that the Universe is Conspiring in Your Favour I’m so good at writing unrequited love stories… How I walked away to...

I Confess (Poetry)

By Amy Frank (Inspired by the poem ‘I Confess’ by Alison Luterman) I confess, I looked him up when I found out his name, to see if he...

Comments


bottom of page