To Ash, To Dust
Is this a dream we’re in?
I watch my little dog sleeping and I wonder achingly, Why can’t he live forever? I scratch my chin and sigh... It’s easy to see my silly questions come from an irrational mind longing for rationality. The liquids inside of me are potent and magical. So how is it we can find such simple explanations for what they do? None of us seems to grasp the magic contained within each and every little drop of a living being. ... I wrote a poem while asleep. Most of it went wherever dreams go. I do remember looking up, seeing a thousand flickering lights like sunlight through autumn leaves. Slowly the lights became glass beads hanging from a giant chandelier, and sleeping right beneath was my little dog. ... Allow your dreams to guide you into the infinite space of forever.
Published in