Of my design

By thinking

what have I created, have I hatched a new reality?

A new world of my conjuring,

solely within my mind, unseen by others,

existing only by my thoughts.

Am I by default the only occupant or can I bring others, create

others, merely by thinking them into existence.

Living briefly in a dream.

Or are they living, coming invited to my fantasies,

sharing a brief coexistence,

returning upon waking to their own reality.

Suppose if I were to bring my world into this one simply by writing it down,

a lucid dream made real with a pen.

Gaining some substance here by my imagination,

growing stronger, more solid by having been read.

Some foothold on this plane of existence by a shared thought.

How careful then would we be with our thoughts and words,

how cautious with our ruminating,

lest we unleash some beast of our own design.