"In life, many thoughts are born in the course of a moment, an hour, a day. Some are dreams, some visions. Often, we are unable to distinguish between them. To some, they are the same; however, not all dreams are visions. Much energy is lost in fanciful dreams that never bear fruit. But visions are messages from the Great Spirit, each for a different purpose in life.
"Consequently, one person's vision may not be that of another. To have a vision, one must be prepared to receive it, and when it comes, to accept it. Thus when these inner urges become reality, only then can visions be fulfilled. The spiritual side of life knows everyone's heart and who to trust. How could a vision ever be given to someone to harbor if that person could not be trusted to carry it out. The message is simple: commitment precedes vision." - High Eagle
My Cold Dark Dream
The sparrow flew in
Through the window, landed here
On the strewn papers,
On the table beside
My heavy heart on this rain
Filled night without you.
This could be a song
But it is my life that plays
In this cold dark dream.
Sparrow dying now
On the floor and the cold grows
Colder in my shell
Of an empty life.
My dream shatters. I break down,
Then wake to gray dawn.
Written January 26, 2009 9:23 PM
First posted July 9, 2009
Sun breaks through
ReplyDeleteClouds part for that split second
Dew glistens
Like prisms all spectrums explore
The aftermath of
That grey dawn
Yes indeed. That's one way forward and here's another:
ReplyDeleteWaking Up Alone
In the gray of dawn
I'm haunted by dead cold flames.
Gravid stones call out
from my ebbing dream.
I pray my friend comes sooner
than the rising sun.
She'll spin me the yarns
only she can safely twist
off the likes of me.
What weaves will she make
ReplyDeleteFrom tattered wool she will take
Off the likes of me
No lace for her
Oh what weaves she will make
From the worm wool she will take
From the likes of me
No lace indeed
I'm tapped out for the moment. Well if not tapped out I know that like our conversations if I dont stop I wont stop. Good night mage, may the loving arms of the mother imbrace you, and may you find Long Bottom leaf where ever you travel.
ReplyDeleteGod Damn! That's really good work!! Though this poem feels like it relies on the current context it is going to stand alone just fine. I recommend that you understand this poem as standing on its own. It wanted to live. It is not your own deep soul's truth. In other words, the poet who writes is not really the guy who does the dishes or takes the hits your life dishes out. He is not the father of your children nor is he the student of the local schools that rate your progress these days. It was written by "He ment well", not you.
ReplyDeleteKeep that one, cherish it. There is some creative writing class or some other time that you can use it coming up. Turn around and post it on your own blog. The people who matter to you should see it.
Take this little exchange as the lesson it really is on creativity and how it sparks alive as dialog. It is precisely the same process as musicians use in improvisational jazz. It can't hurt if you take to your knees in gratitude for the presence of the divine in our affairs. I confess I see the divine in such things as these.
I could have written this one, but you wrote it instead. I'm glad. :)
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