Wednesday, February 06, 2013

Great Hermitage of Ashes

author's note:

In my experience, dreams don't lie.

I may lie about what they're saying to me, but the dreams themselves don't lie.


Because I saw the room in a dream
I knew it must be true:

the walls and floor, all dull gray--
even the light motes drifting
down from the ceiling:
heavy gray

but apparently
I knew how to break--to bloom:
years later, though I still see
scary things in my dreams
I encounter nothing so monotone--

no such hermitage of ashes.

And yet, I won't leave it behind:
I revisit that gray, occasionally
drawn by a desire to understand

and to my surprise
I’ve come to realize
a monolithic power
in that drab
sepulchral presence:

a magnificence:

though sealed
though restrictive
it's a great space--!--:
the walls so high
the ceiling could be the floor
of the sky.

When I first woke from the room
years ago, I felt oppression

now, as I wake to the dream again
I still feel its burden
but with this understanding:
how such enormous weight
pressures us into so much life...

© 2013, Michael R. Patton
dreaming steps

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