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The Storm is Upon Us
The storm is upon us, so it seems. Every now and again she gives us her dreams. Dreams of the end, dreams of a different life. Dreams so thick the only way to wake is to cut them with a knife. Is this knowledge I am dreaming, is it someone trying to connect. Are these visions sent from a different dialect. Unable to talk, the barriers broken in two. To not pay attention, I'd certainly play the fool. Heart is wide open to judge from right and wrong. Knowing another storm is coming, it won't be long. Time has caught up to us like an old traditional song. Never to leave our thoughts, anything different would feel empty and wrong.
© Dale A Martinez
© Dale A Martinez
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