Member Poem

A nice prescription of sleep
  I took when the day proved awry
And found myself when I blinked
  In a dreamscape of its own kind.

I could hardly believe it
  But I saw a meadow without end;
I stopped my crying to think
  Of where the tiller went.

I saw in hues that'd never been;
  The sky emoted rest.
That place - known only to me -
  Brought me there at behest

And of time? What did it mean
  To the birds above the field?
To the excitable bee
  Nourished by a fallen tear?

Suddenly - I startled -
  And sitting up in my bed -
Felt my wound's sharpness dulled -
  Almost like it'd never happened.