The theme I was given this week is ‘Gods’, so I decided to write a poem about Morpheus, the Greek God of Dreams.
Any of you Neil Gaiman or Matrix fans out there should recognise the name instantly; the prince of dreams is the main character of the Sandman series and Laurence Fishburn’s character is named after him to represent the passing between reality and the Matrix dreamstate.
The son of Hypnos (God of Sleep) and Pasithea (Goddess of Rest), Morpheus created and manipulated dreamstates to show premonitions and pass messages from the gods to human mortals. ‘To be in the arms of Morpheus’ is a phrase used to describe a deep, restful sleep with vivid dreams. He used his powers in a cave filled with poppy seeds to enter people‘s dreams and that is where the name of the drug ‘Morphine’ originates from.
Morpheus
Weary mortal, close your eyes
as your sinking soul immerses deep
into an endless sapphire sky,
into his realm of dreaming sleep.
Space and time are left behind
back in the world of waking things,
as Morpheus carries you away
enfolded in his feathered wings.
He can make the twilight dance
and it’s his name the nightingale sings.
He can move the moon, shape the stars
and weave the dreams of gods and kings.
Across the canvas of the mind
the brightest colours burn like fire.
He paints the future, paints the past,
sweet fantasy and dark desire.
He is endless, ancient, young.
With ease he bends realities.
In his hands he holds oblivion
and in his eyes shine galaxies.
And whilst you sleep he stands his guard
to keep the nightmare realm at bay.
As you slumber in poppy fields
until the night fades into day.
©️Eleanor Wallace 2022
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