Don Pearson - Dreaming

My dream had beauty.
Black pooled light
on rainswept streets,
blood on the walls
of the houses
that are no longer homes,
disgorged, broken lives
crying at the sun,
hidden somewhere
behind the storm clouds.
There is a smell of death
in this town,
a knife discarded
on the roadside,
vomit on the beach,
empty premises
left inside
those who once
also dreamed
of redemption.

I had a nightmare.
There was a light
in my eyes
of hope,
a future of flowers
and fruiting vines.
Love conquers all,
the brave Shiva,
green shoots,
waving in the warm breeze
amidst the burnt grasses.
When I awoke
the fire still thrilled me.
Then reality
streamed in
with the morning and
spat out its teeth.

I cannot dream now.
My sleep is dark,
dark as my wake.
Any light I see
is through frayed edges
in a black curtain,
hiding other shades,
that are blinded by
the falling ash,
dessicate, torn,
betrayed by faith,
by hope, by love,
beyond all trust.


(30th Sep 2001)

Don Pearson

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreaming-34/