Whisper Lodge – To Educate a Dream
Simran Kaur
I dream a dream within a life of mine
Where there be strife of time,
Where the wind be blowing rife as it would pine,
Where the Arête pokes up as a knife as it will dine
In the golden dream of Whisper Lodge.
When I wake in the early morn,
I wander in the lonely dawn,
As settled is the yearly fawn,
Yet I be a restless form.
I dream a mask of hobbled queen,
Where I yearn to learn and to dream,
Where I yearn for words to be as they seem,
Where ripples come with sun beams
In the way of Whisper Lodge.
A lady wandering where there is none,
Where I be and make up one,
Where I yearn for words anon,
There to be settled thereupon.
I yearn for books to reach me,
Yearn for learning to let me see,
Yearn to dance, a dream within a life to be,
Mine to dance with veil free
In the place of Whisper Lodge.
In present time when all be masked,
When men and women thus be tasked,
There be questions, yearnings asked,
Where the golden sun thus basked.
I yearn to live a life beyond,
Where free is the settled pond,
The wind is in the friendly bond,
Of life in play with golden frond,
Of a dream of Whisper Lodge.
But I dream a dream within a life of mine,
High be it that I do climb,
Where there be nothing, only a dream of time,
Where I sit and foolish do I pine.
I do not now dream of Whisper Lodge, for it is far away,
I do not dream a fantasy in such a way,
For be there no time this day,
I dream a real thing, a concept by which to play:
There be no Whisper Lodge!
I dream a present, not a past,
So that it may then last,
There where words with power hast,
Take to my mind on great mast.
I dream a dream of real things,
Of silent bells with silent rings,
In life I think of books, it sings,
I read what life brings.
I do not dream of Whisper Lodge.
I live and laugh in splendour of the airy,
Gentle be the dancing fairy,
Singing is the bird called Mary,
I be awake, I be not weary,
I have a path, a long way to travel,
Snow becomes the silent gravel,
There the twining rope doth unravel,
There is a sound so like a gavel.
I build a place of Whisper Lodge.
Where there I sigh with steady head,
Where there be the flower bed,
Where I hear the cry of morn where it is said,
“I build a path to walk instead!”