In Dreams: 890 Poem by DM W

In dreams, I'm old at sat in my study.
With many books wide open on my desk.
O they all glow with a curious light!
The clock has stopped ticking. There is only
The soft, eternal moment unfolding.
The walls are covered in esoteric
Symbols that seem to brim with life's essence.
Because it is winter, I'm recalling
Summer's splendour and youth's verdant green days.
Although it is winter, I am warmed by
A fire that seems to emanate from deep
Within me. I gaze out at the world that lies
Beyond my window. I see snowfall and
Starlight intermingle in novel ways.
I try to capture their profundity
In patterned, poetic lines. I attempt
To make them rhyme, but there is something strange
And elusive that I cannot quite grasp;
Something slightly off key and out of season:
Something that wants to remain a mystery.