Will I still dream?

When I have no more vision, will I be able to use my mem­o­ry ? Where will my hands, my legs and my head be to guide me ? Will I be only future star­dust, or will I dance on the flu­id ground of a con­scious­ness that will ignore me while accept­ing me under its wing ?

Is there only one sun in all these assumptions ?

I may walk, read gloss­es and gnoses, but there seems to be no cer­tain­ty except the soil of ques­tions. Our igno­rance is an open secret that pre­vents peo­ple from cling­ing to big­otries or methods.

I may walk, but I’m tread­ing water on the sea­sons. No mat­ter how much I read, I run out of steam on the silence of the answers. I don’t know if it soothes or anguish­es me, if it tires me or hard­ens me.

I still have the vision, heart, hear­ing, rea­son­ing, and oth­er sens­es of a mor­tal. These are pre­cious trea­sures that I guard and recom­bine in my sleep. When I have no more vision, no more sen­sa­tions, will I con­tin­ue to dream ?