The woods are on fire was my first thought
But I was the one who wanted this journey
So, I took another step into the unknown
The night had turned red, it was a blood moon
Ominous to some? To me, it felt like home
There was a comfort in seeing the souls of the trees
They had always nurtured me, tonight was no different
I saw lights in the distance, the castle of the soothsayer
She had lit the path along the way with spirited reds
A hazy mist in the distance almost looked like snow
I knew it was remnants of her magic; she had begun without me
I am her heir, her apprentice, a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.
My steps felt light now, there was anticipatory joy in my heart.
I was almost home, where my true training would begin.
I would become an alchemist like my mother and her mother.
The sorceress threw out a wave of pink in a lovely welcome.
Recurring Dream – 2
No talent
Dreams come on the crashing waves of R.E.M. sleep.
They come from the darkest oceans of the subconscious deep,
whispers of time exhausted, drifting into the midnight hours
perilously merging, in darkness, with what we thought ours.
Not !, for there is this other recurring dream.
From its surrealistic messages, I do glean,
a missive from its distorted images seen
- there is no talent coming from within me –
This is why – it seems – all I will ever be
is a laborer, an apprentice, a go for
doing all the **** work – nothing more
in these dream - my life , slowly closing the door.
B. J. “A ” 2
June 15th 2005
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