A Wild Dream

All, Journal, Poetry

I had a wild dream,
I was on a bus, careening out of control, down a hill
I was, unknown to them, there to help,
An IDF special forces soldier sat beside me
And finally, we arrived in a valley
Children ran out, gnome-like, after us, as we filled into the grassy lowlands –
They smeared my hand with a blue paste, containing a psychedelic –
We were all being drugged
I wiped the paste off, warned the rest,
Then reinforcements came,
There was a hostage situation –
I grabbed the gun and shot the man
Then the leaders came,
I was a hero, yet they wanted me to accept their terms
To surrender
I asked for paper and pen,
Wrote down terms contrary to these global ends
And instead of accepting – I denied
And they wanted me dead…
I ran, I escaped
Jumped through wooden shutters
And I hung on a cliff, clung
There, a soldier came, with the high ground,
I grabbed him, throwing him over me, into the abyss
Climbing up, I ran to the back of a truck,
Driven by some unknown Krishna,
From whom I grabbed a shotgun,
Aimed toward the stage, and fired
They looked as I flew past,
Screaming out,
“Liberty and justice for all!”

And I woke up…
Amazed, knowing,
That god, consciousness, energy sees everything and into everything, sees all things,
And into their heart, bears witness to their inner character,
Where humans think they are alone.

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