These Dreams

I catch a glimpse of mystery when the unknown pulls me in,
be it  sweeping fields of golden or a past forgotten sin.
A slumber can't resist its place, a journey yet untold,
that will take me on the wings of night or daylight clear and bold.
The mind begins to whisper," rest," as it carries me to view,
I'm succumbing to something mystic that is way beyond the blue.
Thought stirs a sacred moment as it cradles all the stress,
a fest of an ongoing fiction as the mind becomes caressed.
I'm falling into chapters which are something of pretend,
 wishing fiction were a fact where sometimes story time won't end.
As I fall into its whisper before sleep time calls to wake.
These dreams will have there moments in the stories that they make.