A Reoccurring Dream....
Running, running in the dark, emerging from the woods late in the night.
Whispering clouds seem to drift before the face of the moon. Looking over
my shoulder, yet, as always, no- one is there, No- one is ever there. There
is a house, always the same house. I come to window, always the same
window, crouching low, I am afraid, always afraid. My shaking fingers grasp
the sill, I raise my head ever so slowly, as my heart is beating out of my
chest. My eyes clear the edge of the sill, instantly it seems as though
my heart and time stand still. Apparitions, hundreds of them, moving, lost
as though they seek something. I pray silently to God for protection, suddenly
I feel warmed, as though a blanket has been wrapped around me. Without
conscious thought, I begin to pray for the souls I see within each apparition
I see. Those that look at me and what seems like their looking into my soul
smile at me, then disappear into a soft glowing light. Those that don't look
at me remain. What can this mean?
To be Continued!
Copyright © Richard Pickett | Year Posted 2009
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