Dreams Of The Dead

Last night beneath the stars I dreamed,

Of a Lady fair and a violent fiend,

I tossed and turned in a bed of sand,

On a moonlit stretch of holy land,


Where geckos laughed in shadowy groves,

As the ocean breathed her ebb and flow,

Luna marked the midnight hour,

And I awoke to the calling of her power,


Premonition dissipates in the conscious mind,

The laws of reality tightly bind,

Left reeling by echos I cannot name,

Though the world around me looks the same,


Something has shifted as I slept,

Though knowledge and spirit do not intercept,

Slightly worried that I have missed the point,

Warm rain drops on my brow anoint,


I am reaching for my trusted pen,

Who knows better than I the art of Zen,

Yet ink is a slave to the master’s whim,

And I can make no sense of the mental din,


Reaching to my soul who knows the truth,

Of wisdom forgotten with passing youth,

My page reflects a celestial sky,

As the ink rolls free with a grateful sigh.


Share Your Thoughts...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s