On my stomach
I am crawling.
All of a sudden
I am falling.

Hearing aloud
myself
I am calling.
In my heart
dwells
forlorn longing.

Into an abyss
I am plunging.
My body is not
functioning ...

Will not listen to
my minds touching.
For I know not
what’s coming ...

Then I turn
but a fraction
of time watching
my decapitation.

The pain sharp,
a searing contraction.
Stunned am I,
my life an abstraction.

'Twas but an
earth quake,
death
becomes
birth
colored
opaque.

No time
to consider
the worth
to vacate,
For I know
frantically
that I must
first awake.

To keep
my children
within my sight,
Needing to
know they
will be alright.

I find myself
gathering
talisman
of the dead
who are creative,
and talented.
Gladly given
by the
Shaman
of the Wise
Ancient
Salmon.

'Twas but a
thought projection
an elemental
electric collection
of formed matter
with reflection
choices, never
more than a selection.

Through my mind
flows kinetics
filled with desire
and energetic,
avoiding the realm
of the catastrophic
with a charisma
I find quite poetic.

Tearing through
imperfect night,
to me ‘tis
as kryptonite.

Draining my
stamina of sight
I glimpse the
power of white.

‘Tis almost
polite
at this

incredible
height.

As only one
can do
in spirit
I have only
to mirror it.
My soul will
adhere to it
with sounds
in silence..
prophetic.

Will I
to the other
begin
crossing over?
Hungry,
lost,
still
very much
a loner?

Will I be
scoffed
as is the
stoner?
or
Soft,
warm and
known unto
Her?

Beautiful you are in Nightmares ... 

​

​

This dream was quite prophetic of the changes that were about to happen in my life.