Who Were You in My Dream?

After last week's poetry jam (or "twoem") on Twitter, I extracted my contributions and then reshaped them a bit, although "my contributions" turn out to have been highly influenced by my fellow contributors. So, a deep bow of thanks to @llbarkat and @TchrEric.

Who Were You in My Dream?

I was the lateness in the night
That passed through the pane
Of glass.
I was the wind
That teased the candle flame.

I was the drop of wax
Aside the candle,
On the golden fork,
The gold reflecting shards
Of a shattered window.

I was the memory lying
Behind the departed,
Beyond the cluttered table,
To remain still,
Quiet in slumber,
Unworried by morning
Crossing my brow
Or furrowing my mind.

I was the black hole
Filled by grace,
Rimmed in pastel
Colored
With crimson morning.

I was the morning
Pushing past the curtain,
Mourning the night
By shouting the day,
The sun that awoke my heart
To the new day.

I was the wholeness
That became the holy,
As walls of dreams
Surrounded the clocks.