I had a dream,
some nights ago,
what it could mean,
I do not know.
Took a minute to recover though,
sitting up but still slumped over,
everything was moving slow.
And although since,
the fog has lifted,
I can tell that
something in me shifted.
A shadow came to dim within me,
the glow that I was gifted.
In my dream,
I saw a primitive man,
fidgeting with a dented can.
He quickly deduced,
it was a can of fruit.
For a caveman I found him
to be surprisingly astute.
Not a clue as to how
to open it however,
with this he could not dispute.
He was eager to open his gift,
from a strange and unknown land,
but as you and I we surely know,
it can be difficult to open a can.
Especially if you forgot the opener,
when your trip back in time
was hastily planned.
Amazed to find
that I could visit
any time in my past.
My future was off-limits however,
that die is not yet cast.
Tangerines in a can,
was the only thing I had.
They'd been rolling around
my floorboard so long,
it's a wonder they hadn't gone bad.
I wanted to bring some peaches.
but they're too in demand.
Tangerines, the only thing
that I could bring,
to not arrive with an empty hand.
I was really quite disheveled,
as I said,
I hastily planned.
I simply got too excited,
when I left for caveman land.
I miscalculated and wound up,
in the Pleistocene.
Glaciers over a mile thick,
the most ice I'd ever seen.
Searching for the caveman,
was tougher than you'd think.
Melting handfuls of ice,
along the way,
just to get a drink.
Finally there, a telltale sign,
an indication,
there dwelt my kind.
The smoke from a fire
rising high,
blending with the drab
colorless dreamt up sky.
"If it's the last thing I do
before I die,
I'll find the elusive caveman,
so I can ask him why."
Where does he believe,
we took some wayward turn?
To a caveman does it seem,
that the modern world receives,
exactly what it's earned?
Because if you ask me,
as far as I'm concerned,
we reject and heedlessly spurn,
what our ancestors
would have us learn.
Finally face to face,
an progenitor of my race.
I shake his hand,
hug him tight,
and totally invade his space.
He flinched at first,
for surely he feared,
that I had come to threaten
what it is he holds most dear.
Out of sheer confusion,
befuddled, scratching his beard.
He thought,
"This stranger who looks strange,
is really strange and weird."
"He might just belong,
on the business end of my spear."
While the caveman was formulating,
his murderous master plan,
I reached into my satchel,
for the tangerines in a can.
The astonishment he had,
was unmistakable indeed.
A bite of fruit in this cold,
with the sky so drab and mute,
would be just what he needs.
With fruit like this,
he was not familiar.
Never had he seen such a thing,
that was even remotely similar.
Beneath the pure pristine,
ice shelves of a glacier,
little oranges,
or tangerines,
if using proper nomenclature,
was the only vibrant color
that could anywhere be seen.
Long after the sun went down,
our luck with the can
thankfully turned around.
We finally managed,
well into the night,
to pry open the stubborn can,
but not without a fight.
When first he tasted a tangerine,
the caveman then,
became unexpectedly mean.
All of the sudden he put on airs,
of a gentleman distinguished,
With a look of indignation,
he spoke in perfect English:
"Did you really come all this way,
to such a distant land,
only to deliver,
tasteless crap capped in a can?
You really ought to try one
from the tree ya know?
Oh that's right,
you're in a dream,
so your mind is moving slow.
Rest easy little sheep,
try to get some sleep.
Find yourself another dream,
when the ground is warm,
still sprouting green.
See one frozen world,
now all of them you've seen.
There's not much there,
that one would miss
except a warm embrace,
and possibly a kiss.
Few and far between,
in a harsh world such as this.
It's far too cold,
to have the luxury,
of aimlessly chasing bliss.
Crawl back beneath your blankets,
shift that contraption into gear,
be precise when setting the dial,
to a more salubrious year.
Oh and don't forget,
I'd be forever in your debt,
if you brought some FRESH PICKED fruit,
whenever next we met.
Or maybe instead,
I'd have you bring
a pack of cigarettes.
I suppose it doesn't really matter,
I'll take what I can get.
But if I may be so bold,
and at the risk of being wrong,
To what particular
period of time,
will the thing you bring belong?
Will it somehow weaken,
what we try here to keep strong?
Hopefully it would seem
as if you've lit a beacon,
a signal to unite them all,
under the auspices of reason.
Because some
simply are not ready,
for the long awaited thaw.
Like a gentle mist,
in the beginning it will fall.
But soon thereafter,
indiscriminate,
it will drench us one and all.
How some can find the nerve,
indeed the very gall!
To live purposefully illiterate,
simply to avoid,
the writing on the wall.
This path of least resistance,
would surely seduce us all.
Those that take it,
are what I call,
"unwittingly instrumental",
in this, and every other fall.
It would be a long time of course,
since this era began,
Until it would be known by me,
as the Pleistocenic fall of man.
All around are negative entities
all abound with wicked proclivities,
misdirect our gazing eyes.
Sensitizing our sensitivities,
strengthening the bars
of our captivity,
take our eyes off of the prize.
On some fateful day,
after this fall is over,
when we run away we'll see,
there was never an enclosure,
and if there was
most certainly,
we would find we hold the key.
That makes one a steward,
anyway that's what I choose to see.
A sacred and rewarding gift,
of divine responsibility.
Suddenly then, I awoke,
and realized it was all a dream.
And wouldn't ya know it,
it was right as the gift,
was being opened in front of me.
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