Philosophy of Dreams

Dreams are something,
are they not,
that grace us every day,
to wander off the beaten path,
and go the diagonal way,
nor are they then illusions,
for what path can be cobbled of mist?
But then assuming dreams irreality,
what then could they be?
Are they simply nights illusion,
or a message,
Fancy of the mind,
or warning of the divine?
If one could truly answer,
what then would happen?
would dreams stop altogether?
For if such an eternal Mystery were to be solved,
what then would their purpose serve?
Are not dreams a part of the Mystery?
One after another we would think to fall,
in this age of technological marvels,
the institutions and mysteries of life,
but,
if so,
what would become of us?
a life with no mysteries is one loathe to imagine,
if at all possible.
the end of creativity,
imagination,
goals,
the loftiest aspirations,
inspiration,
love,
all gone in the blink of an eye.
So then I feel it better not to know,
for did not life intend it so?
knowledge is power, as many believe,
but to take it,
what must one sacrifice?
Perhaps it is better to watch the mists of night in awe,
than curiosity.
For the truth of dreams,
is all in your dreams.