martes, 23 de abril de 2013

martes: Flying dream

Flying dream

this flying dream
on the tree of life’s wings
it is raining hard
and snowing
and it all turns into 
moving roundness
all around round round
while a green snake slithers
up the tree of life
onto its wings
and all the it storms
the wind blows blows
all around my little island

The tree says: 
I am a bird out of your dream
the Quetzalcoatl of your unconscious
the phoenix of destiny
I stand in the raining darkess 
tossed by a tropic storm storm
testing my tensile strength
a serpents slithers up  
up my trunk
out along my wings
below everywhere flowers
of a thousand forgotten dreams
peek out through the night
just like the cities that appear
out of the blackness
of the valley below
on those long night drives
darkness intimate
like a blanket
like this storm

--Lorena Wolfman (c) 2013

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