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