Always ethereal, always eclectic, I write as the mood strikes, when there intrigue reveals itself. Usually that means something controversial or adventure of some sort.

I've tried really hard to be unprovocative, but have as yet been unsuccessful.

Sunday, 2 September 2007

Dream and Nightmare

It is an unending moment.
A flash.
It is light.
She came and dwelt among us for awhile.
And suffusing all the dream.
Surely it will end.
Surely I will end it.
Everything is brighter,
Everything is clearer.
So many plans,
So many thoughts,
So many possibilities.
Now I know what perfection is.
Not the presence of full good,
but the becoming of something greater.
This is the comfort of knowing home.

It is not home, she says.
And the record plays back
with demonic whisperings.
In the shadows you saw us dancing.
Shadows looming as specters.
Once innocence thought
is now filled with every recrimination and regret.
I have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.
And so they end.
So the dance stops, broken.
And there are only memories.


Then why do you keep talking to me?
Why are we still deep in conversation?
I heard your voice, just an hour ago, and we laughed,
about some not forgotten event.

3 comments:

quaintance said...

I assume the three fonts are intentional. Three voices?

@bdul muHib said...

Three steps. And she was really into fonts.

Anonymous said...

Hi, Jed. I read it. It was very well said, and very sad.
Love, Mom