The Cross

I stood between the sun and moon
in a dream, in a room.

A pock marked silver sphere,
the moon by my left shoulder hovered near.

At my right,
the sun blazed bright, only an arms length away.

Within the walls of my dream
I stood between these two extremes
and neither sun nor moon held sway.

Reaching out my sinister side,
I touched the moon
and felt my fingers slide
across her cool and pale face.

Then my right hand I stretched through space
and submerged in licking flames
of hydrogen and stellar gas.

Arms crucial, I spanned the gulf
between day and night -

a conduit through which did pass
the secrets of darkness, the mysteries of light.

An old one (6 years or so). Not based on an actual dream - more of an idea, really. The central image, as the symbols of sun and moon employed to create it, is rather obvious, perhaps. I prefer to think it is archetypal. This piece, as I recall, flowed from pen to paper with nary a stutter. One notable exception being the use of the word crucial - one or two other words, and a certain amount of research preceded the appearance of this word in the final draft.