A mad
wild dream of running down the stream
Collecting
rogue pebbles that gather no moss
Kicking
an odd twig or two right across the edge
The
birds singing happy songs in words I don’t get
Where
the houses and buildings melt away
The
earth swallows the tar whole, black and set
The
smoke retreats back into those lowly tubes
And
freedom breathes gold, blue and red
The sky
paints the stars in limited edition pixie dust
As they
glimmer shyly from behind their veils
The
moon, drunk from a night or wanton revelry
Laughs
like a delirious old fool – loud and resonant
It’s in
this dream you appear from behind the shadows
Your
blade sharpened, dripping of red from the last battle
Creases
of sorrow and death folded above your brows
And you
crush the soft glades beneath your muddy boots
You
come to find sleep you say, as your hands smell of pain
Men
have hunted you, chased you and pierced your faith
And
women have forsook their intuition and screamed
In fear
that you have been sent by the unknown evil
“I ask
for nothing,” you claim, “only some quiet moment.”
And
settled under the non-judgemental tree to close your lids
I watch
you, in deference, as only I can see the truth in you.
“Rest
here,” I say, “for the morning will be a better promise.”
Somewhere,
miles away, in a world that has lost its dreams
He
watches my body shiver to a myriad happenings
And
questions the whole morality of our existence
“If even by mistake, she dreams,” he decides, “she
must die.”
