2 September 2005
In my dreams, there are always flood waters,
a dirt road that just disappears,
and sometimes refuge in a stranger's house.
The house has hot springs in the living room,
the steam creates mist on the mirrors,
making the gray haired woman laugh.
She asks if I am passing through.
Sometimes I go out the back door,
a verdant forest awaits my exit.
In my bed, I sleep with a dreamcatcher.
Sometimes thunderstorms rule the night
and the dreamcatcher glows brightly
casting shadows and wishes on the wall.
You complain, tell me to turn out the light
but I'm already too far gone.
My head is on the pillow, deep asleep,
walking on the road, flood waters ahead.
© 2005, Satya J. Gabriel