7.03.2019

on the 3rd of July




DREAM-WORK

On the 3rd of July, looking out of this
rain-soaked gazebo into
the yard, I’d like you,
cameradi, to digest my curious

thesis.  Because every moment is a choice
on an axle of light and dark,
& who knows?  Some dream-work
might lead a soul to Paradise.

Out of the Iron Age of infantile aggression
where malign honchos rule
by gun; out of the school
of bully shocks & clinical repression

locked tight by rapacity & fraud;
out of the surly tank parade
Czar Minotaur has made
his own amazement... into the wide

milk-meadows of a Golden Age.
But you have to recognize –
these lightning-bug sparklers
kids wave over mosquito grass image

some more graceful & inexplicable
coherence.  Someone breathing
nearby, in your ear.  A thing
beyond abstraction... elementary table

of an I AM dream-cosmos.  Someone 
Brother?  Sister?  Mary?
– calling you by name.  See?
Here.  Hearth-dance of Daniel.  Be reborn.

7.3.19

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