When Describing Life

I've had foolish fancies that turn into dreaming,
but never believed a dream could be like this:
I am fair, fair, immaculate,
the room pure, pure perfection,
with the lovely silk cushions,
and the joy-of-love quilts,
and these elegant footsteps were so unhurried,
these whispered words most enchanting.
What I described didn't seem to happen rapidly,
but then, strangely, became only temporary,
and I woke to nothingness,
suddenly aware that all is
an empty illusion...

[Erin Wei, inspired by Buddhist texts.]