I fall
past windows,
waterfalls of sulphur
I fall
yet have no sense
of time
nor space
in relation
to my place
I fall
through glass
and pass
through mountains
of steel
as a ghost
I fall
in all directions
it seems
I fall
through moments
and years, past and gone
yet knowing
the fears
I held
about falling
are not the rocks
that may well
be below
but are the white clouds
from which I fell.

The Magpie Dream

I was the magpie dreaming westward
translucent wings in bluest night
black eyes sharpened cutting darkness
to steal a heart held out of sight,
yet all dreams are wont to endings
as they spy their true desires
that they seek cannot be captured
‘fore the dawning’s waking fires,
and so the magpie dreaming westward
left my flesh to end his flight
and that bright treasure so entrancing
flew with him into bluest night.

A dream of falling

In a dream
he climbed a tower
built from ancient seashells,
stained glass shards
and tide ravaged stones
with each tentative step
he reached further and further
into the golden uplands
of his own history
but the footing became loose,
treacherous and unsure,
his grip became tenuous
a slip became more
and falling backwards
he descended, screaming
toward his future.

A Dream of The Dancing Horse

the dancing horse dragged me away
black and poisoned tainted breath
riderless yet spurred by midnight’s
insecure nightmares of death

we travelled through the broken lands
where ne’er a single soul was saved
from the terror of our travels
which scattered earth upon cold graves

no respite brought the new lit morning
sunlight dimmed by eyes of fire
only armageddon’s dawning
red as blood from funeral pyres

and in my fevered new awakening
each dark image fixed in me
for in my soul I knew these shadows
held store some part of destiny.