Stream of Dreams

Dreams have a life of their own
They need nothing from us
But to watch, and occasionally play our roles
They roll on like a stream as they please
There are tributaries and rivulets
That take side trips,  so bizarre and unexpected
We can leave those more easily
But they have a way of coming back
Or rather letting us back in
As they are always flowing
In the direction they choose
Sometimes there are rapids
And anxiety is our canoe without a paddle
We careen from boulders to overhanging trees
Thinking we can make a difference
By leaning and thrashing, 
But never we do…
So too the lazy river
The one we don’t want to end
Where we float in enjoyment
And it is always this one 
That the alarm clock brings to an End!