The Dream Catcher

I wrote this poem on April 7, 2020. I had written about what a day in the life of a Dream Catcher would look like if there existed one. This poem has not been majorly edited since it was written in April 2020 (only grammar was fixed). More than two years later, I still see the relevance of this poem and thought I should publish it on my blog.                                                                             

The Dream Catcher

Anneysha Sarkar 

When the world rests, I rise from my slumber.

A sack supported by my back,

The deserted streets - I wander.

I am no one unusual, but only a bit strange;

My abode is amongst the wilderness,

In the deepest woods of the vastest mountain range.

At twilight for this duty of mine, I prepare

My robe, my walking stick and my sack.

For I am the Dream Catcher.

Each night, I witness

The utmost creativity of man

Of woven stories, infinite and endless.

He dreams of the truth and of pleasure,

Fulfilling wishes beyond reach

And witnesses his past and his future.

Years have passed and still the mischievous banter

Of brothers and closest friends I hear,

For I am the Dream Catcher.

Oftentimes humans do encounter

In their prosperous sleep,

Threatening nightmares. 

I must capture all those disasters

In the sack I carry

To comfort the bliss of my dreamers.

All the dreams a man dreams, I must censor

Carefully, without an error.

For I am the Dream Catcher.

With the break of dawn, 

My work ends soon

And I retire to my bed.

Quickly I sort through the dreams 

Like government officials working strategies,

Deleting the unnecessary. 

All dreams remain as faint memories of adventure,

Most are deleted, as per my order.

For I am the Dream Catcher.

I drag back my sack of collected dreams, 

Each of them tells a different story,

Some sweet, some tragic

No matter what story they tell, they are captured  By me, for I am the Dream Catcher.