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The Bulldozer in my Dream

They have been wandering for decades
Journeying to the land that was promised by their forefathers
A land that would seal the faith of future generations.

They rove night and day guided by a single pillar of light
Looking for the land that was just minutes within sight
But faith had them wondering and pondering 
Meandering up steep hills and giant rocks
Roaming around mountain and caves
Looking for that sacred spot.

But they could not find their way home 
The road that leads home was covered with tall thick giant grass 
Blade as wide as the palm of my hands overshadowed the path
And the visible eyes could not perceive it
Only the spirit of God could reveal it.

Suddenly a bulldozer appears,
And a little man holding the levers  
Reversed it back and forth and leveled the dense path 
That leads to a dead end spot in the middle of the town.
The bulldozer could not handled the thick mass of grass
That forms little mountains on that anguished path.

Determination kept the bulldozer rolling along.
It pushed and scraped until it leveled the towering grass 
That connects the main road to an asphalted road. 
Without warning the bulldozer blade broke off in a circular hole
And the little man came from behind the levers and peeped into
the hole and grumbled that he has strained his back.

All of a sudden two men with machetes appeared 
And start copping around several mounds
Close to that very spot potato vine sprouted 
With blossom forming an archive in the air
potatoes ready for reaping hangs from 
vines  that juxtapose with blossoms.

Be quiet! 
The machete man exclaimed 
Stop chopping!
He peered at vines and leaves above
And discovered that the abandoned path is guarded 
By a gigantic wasp nest with thousands of wasps standing guards.

They hang from branches and form clusters 
that appear as brown potatato blossom
Laying wait in silence to attack their preys 
in the patch of bush that surround the mounds.
But they were exposed and dismantled
just before the break of dawn.

                                                                 ©2014 Christine Phillips



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