731500
7
ON THE TAIL WINDS OF DREAMS
The day stops. Night begins.
The cocooned dream hangs lazily
On the leaf of time;
The veiled goddess—justice
Remains oblivious; her skewed scales
Mimic faked balance.
The dream dreams back to us
A Mona Lisa smile
Teasing the realities of our beings
Zip lining through winds of change
Sailing over cob webbed roads
We once marched down.
Old warriors sing silent songs—a mute chorus
Pondering the deed yet undone.
The children wander but cannot remember Zion
And we cannot teach experience—neither defeat nor victory.
The dream beckons. Memory is speaking.
Stones have no heart. Let Abe sit in his motionless seat.
As for me, I shall rise and cross many more meandering rivers.
The sweet soulful spirits of Marcus, Martin and Malcolm fuel my sail.
